


Rebels of Rhye

by BohemianBeth



Series: Rebels of Rhye [1]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen (Song), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Music, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Drama & Romance, Fanfiction, Friendship, Multi, My First Fanfic, Rebels, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2019-11-04 23:33:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 98,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17907815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BohemianBeth/pseuds/BohemianBeth
Summary: Freddie, Brian, Roger and John all live a dystopian world where almost all forms of self expression and creativity, including music, have been banned by the oppressive New Order of the Queen of Rhye. Can they still find a way to keep themselves alive?





	1. If I'm not Back Again This Time Tomorrow...

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a Queen fanfiction that takes place in a dystopian AU. Obviously none of this is historically accurate to the band since it’s an AU. It’s all for fun (but there will be some heavy stuff ahead). It's cross posted from my Wattpad account @beth_lynn. Enjoy!

_Freddie’s POV_

 

I knew tomorrow everything would be completely different. I was just praying that the change would be a good thing. That was what everyone incessantly told me anyway. _Oh, you’ll love it! You’ll finally become your true self. It’s normal to be nervous before you receive your transition contract, but you’ll see, it’ll all work out for the best._ For nearly five years, they’d been prepping me with these vague promises of greatness veiled behind superficial smiles. Now I was about to discover the truth for myself. 

Quietly, so I wouldn’t wake my parents, I unzipped Kashmira’s makeup kit. I missed my sister dearly, but one good thing about her receiving her contract last month was that I didn’t have to steal her makeup anymore. She left all of it behind for me to use. Technically, the Queen’s New Order outlawed the use of makeup and beauty products, but in our neighborhood, the party wasn’t too strict in adhering to that rule. Women wore makeup all the time and never got arrested for it. Of course, it was considered odd for men to wear makeup, but I took the stares I would receive as flattery. My hair and makeup were that last forms of self expression I had left since moving here, and for that reason alone I would cling to them regardless of what others thought. As I leaned in to apply my dark eyeliner around my big brown eyes, I took in the sight of my reflection for what might be the very last time. I was skinny with shoulder length, flowing black hair, but that I didn’t mind so much. The only thing I felt self conscious about was my teeth. You see I had this hideous overbite due to the extra teeth in the back of my mouth and the result was a bucktoothed mess. I always avoided smiling with my mouth open for that reason.

When I first found out that part of the transition contract often included a drastic surgical change in appearance, I was somewhat excited to finally be rid of these awful teeth. The more I thought about it, though, I became more skeptical. Not only were they a part of me that I had grown rather accustomed to over my twenty-three years, but I feared they were what fueled the power behind my most incredible vocal instrument. Wait, I shouldn’t have told you that! Oh well, you seem trustworthy. I’ve had this secret for so long, I might as well vent to somebody. Promise not to tell anyone, darlings, but I’m what the party would consider a rebel. I know it sounds so scandalous! The truth is that I’ve been engaging in creative thought for as long as I could remember. Music was banned as one of its forms, but I still sang and played the piano well aware of the consequences. It was the only thing I ever wanted to do. I can’t even begin to describe how wonderful and free I feel whenever I perform. 

“Ow! Fuck!” I screamed, wincing in pain as my bracelet sent electrical shocks against my skin. This was actually a fairly minor shock and didn’t last too long. You’d think after five years of this crap, I’d be used to it, but I wasn’t. Everyone in Rhye wore an unremovable bracelet to track our thoughts and activities. If we did something rebellious (engage in creative thought for example), we’d receive shocks. I was told that if we didn’t immediately stop the criminal activity, the shocks would continue and get more painful until the bracelet would flash red. Once the red light stopped flashing and remained stagnant, officers would be sent to our location to arrest us. The furtherest I had ever gotten to that point was a flashing red light. I had nearly passed out from the pain, but I would say it was worth it because I got to finish the song I was working on. 

Anyway, what was I going on about? Oh yes, the contract typically included a section on mandatory appearance changes through invasive surgeries if necessary. I was told it was built around concepts of “traditional beauty” and what would be most attractive to our soulmates, but it mainly stemmed from what made us self conscious about ourselves and what type of body would best suit our new lives. Obviously, I wouldn’t be assigned to a job that involved any singing since music and creative thought was banned. So, it was a possibility that they would fix my teeth and consequently alter my voice.

I instinctively jumped when I heard a knock at the window, expecting a swarm of officers to burst in and take me away kicking and screaming to a rebel camp. When nothing happened, I let out a slight sigh of relief and drew the blinds to see who was knocking. It was Mary, my soulmate. That was one thing that remained the same here in Rhye and in my homeland; everyone was assigned a soulmate. As much as I wanted to find somebody to love, I was doubtful I’d get the results I was yearning for until I was introduced to Mary shortly after moving here. She proved to me that the system did indeed work because the two of us were made for each other as far as I was concerned. Mary quickly became my best friend and the love of my life. Tomorrow we were going to transition to our new lives together. Our contracts would assign us a new neighborhood to move to as well as our new jobs. As terrified as I was of the change, I was grateful to go through it with Mary. 

“Freddie, please let me in! It’s freezing out here!” Mary cried. How could I forget how cold they purposefully made the atmosphere at night to dissuade people from leaving their homes after curfew. We would often sneak over to see each other for nightly visits, but the trip was never pleasant due to the bitter cold. 

“Of course, darling.” I said, opening the window to let her in, “But you need to be quiet. My parents are asleep. We don’t want to get caught.” 

“Please, Freddie, you and I both know you’ve done more rebellious things than hosting me after curfew.” 

My eyes widened in shock. Obviously, I never told Mary about my secret musical prowess. If they took me away, they could never accuse her of collusion, and she’d never get hurt because of me. The last thing in the world I ever wanted was for them to come after Mary. It pained me to keep such a big secret from her when we were so open and honest otherwise, but I saw no other choice. I loved her too much to risk endangering her. 

“Don’t look so surprised.” Mary laughed, taking the eyeliner pencil from my hand, “You’re not too good at hiding it.” 

“Oh! My makeup, of course.” I realized, “Yes, I suppose that makes me a rebel.” ‘ _If only she knew that I did so much worse.’_ I thought. 

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Mary asked, casually throwing herself onto my bed as if it were her own. Thinking nothing of it, I joined her and put my arms around her. She was still shivering from the frigid air outside, so I pulled the covers up around us. Technically, this was a form of rebellion. We weren’t supposed to share our bed—let alone have sexual relations (which if you must know darlings, we’ve done plenty of times)—until we were married. Marriage was not allowed until we had signed our contracts, so for now we were just engaged. Like the makeup rules, the prohibits on physical affection before marriage were never enforced too strictly. Considering we would be assigned our soulmates often years before receiving our contracts, the thought of staying celibate was preposterous. Even kissing before our official union was against the law. I laughed to myself and planted a kiss on Mary’s soft cheek. 

“I’m not sure if I’m ready for tomorrow.” Mary said when I didn’t respond to her question, “I’m kind of scared.” 

I wanted to tell her that I was also terrified, but it wouldn’t be of much comfort, and she seemed like she needed some reassurance. “What are you afraid of?”

“Well…what if—I know it sounds silly, but what if you don’t like my new look? Will you still love me if I’m so different that you can’t even recognize me?” Mary looked down as if she were ashamed.

“Don’t ask stupid questions like that! Of course I’ll still love you. I’ll always love you, darling.” 

“You say that now…but—“

“—But nothing! There’s a reason they matched us as soulmates. You’re the love of my life. Nothing will ever change that.”

She smiled softly and snuggled closer up against my body. I continued to hold her until she finally stopped shivering. 

“You’re so beautiful.” I whispered, gently kissing the top of her head, “And you’ll stay beautiful no matter what they do to you because you have a beautiful soul, my love.” 

“Oh, Freddie!” Mary sniffled, her cheeks flushing. 

It was true, Mary was a natural beauty. In my opinion, the identical drab, tan jumpsuits that everyone was forced to wear did not do justice to her perfect body. Granted, I’ve had the wondrous privilege to see her _without_ the jumpsuit on, but even still her radiance graced through the ugly garment like a flickering light.

“But is that really all you’re concerned about, darling? Just the superficial stuff?” I inquired.

“Well, that’s the main change we’re going to have to agree to. I know we hear scary stories telling us otherwise, but I’m sure all those tall tales of personality changes are just rumors. I doubt they’ll alter our brainwaves or anything crazy like that.”

Oh why did she have to bring up those dreadful rumors? These past few days I had been trying my best not to think about them, but now I was forced to face them. The official consensus was that the bracelets would track all of our creative thoughts, and those who had more than usual were punished in their contracts. A particular unconfirmed story about an artist scared me shitless to be frank. Allegedly, part of her contract included a mandatory neurological surgery that would leave her blind so she could never see color or paint ever again. That was the reason why I gave up drawing, but I could never bring myself to stop singing no matter what horrifying bits of gossip infiltrated our neighborhood. There were other stories of people becoming completely different, behaving in the polar opposite manner to how they would act before. However, it was the artist story that truly stuck with me in a haunting way.

“But I trust the system.” Mary stated reinforcing her commitment to the Queen and the party, “It brought us together. The whole point of these contracts is to transform us into our true selves so we can start our perfect lives together.” 

Perhaps I didn’t have as much faith in the system because I wasn’t born in Rhye. My family was forced to flee from our homeland when I was eighteen because of the war. We had to adapt to this new life and all these new rules because if we had stayed behind, we would have died. I always reminded myself of that. Anything was better than death, right? Besides, I found my soulmate in Rhye, so maybe the system did work. It gave me Mary.

“One day when we have kids, we’ll have to reassure them that the contract is a good thing. It’s nothing to be afraid of.” Mary was still talking, probably to convince herself of her own words. 

“And then they’ll move to a new neighborhood and we’ll never see them ever again.” I blurted. It was a cruel thing to say when Mary was trying to set aside her own worries, but it was true nonetheless. Kashmira was younger than me, but she got contracted and transitioned to her new life first. She and her soulmate were assigned to a new neighborhood, and after that, we never heard from her again. We weren’t even invited to her wedding which usually took place within a week of signing the contracts. My parents were heartbroken, but they didn’t dare show it. We all had to accept that we were no longer a part of her life. Unless Mary and I were assigned to the same neighborhood as Kashmira and her husband, which was incredibly unlikely, I would never see her again.

“The contract is a good thing.” Mary repeated, “We joke about our minor infractions like the makeup and sex, but we’re not real rebels, Freddie. The system works. We have to adhere to it.”

She was right. What other choice did we have? No one ever returned from rebel camps, and I certainly did not want to know what kind of terrifying things went on inside. Still, it wasn’t fair. The one thing I loved to do more than anything else in the world marked me as a rebel. I trailed my fingers through Mary’s soft, blonde hair, feeling her grow limp by my side. She was falling asleep. I decided to strike a conversation with her in this fatigued stage, hoping she would be too tired to read between the lines. 

“Have you ever had any creative thoughts?” I whispered. 

“Of course.” Mary yawned, shutting her pretty eyes, “Everyone does from time to time, Freddie. It’s natural. That’s what the shocks are for, to put a stop to them.” 

“Why are they bad? Do you really think we should be punished for—for expressing ourselves?” My voice cracked, exposing myself as caring too much about this topic. 

Suddenly Mary didn’t seem so tired anymore. She sat up. “Freddie, you’re scaring me. You’re starting to actually sound like a rebel. What’s gotten into you?” 

“Nothing!” I cried, a little too defensively, “I’m just nervous about my contract, that’s all. It’s nothing for you to get worked up about, darling.” 

“I’m nervous too. That’s why I came here. Let’s try to get some sleep, alright? We’ll be okay.” 

Just like that, the sleepiness returned and Mary was drifting off in my arms again. I waited until she was completely stiff and I knew she was out. Then, as softly as I could, I hummed the sweetest lullaby in her ear. She could never know of my secret in the waking world, but I wanted her to know of it, at least in her dreams. I held back a grunt as the bracelet shocked me again. Like always, I resisted the urge to smash my wrist against the wall and gleefully watch the bracelet crack into a million shattered pieces. Apparently, that thought was either deemed rebellious or creative because it earned me another bloody shock. At this rate, I’d probably let out some sort of painful yelp and wake up Mary.

I eyed the open window, considering my options. There was one place I needed to go to one last time before I became a different person. If I returned by the time Mary woke up, nobody would suspect a thing. I’d only be gone for an hour or two at most. The thought of leaving after curfew always thrilled me and reminded me that I may in fact be meant for this rebellious life. 

“Sweet dreams, my love. I’ll be back soon.” I whispered, kissing Mary one last time. I was careful not to wake her as I snuck out the open window and climbed down the fire chute. 

“Shit!” I screamed as the chilly air enveloped my body. The horrid tan jumpsuit was so thin that it did nothing to keep me warm. I might as well be running down the street naked. Don’t get any ideas, darlings, I’m not going to take my clothes off. Believe me I’d love to, but if I did, I’d probably freeze to death. The only good thing about the cold was that it numbed my body so I could barely feel the sharp electric pulses the bracelet was sending across my skin. These weren’t as intense as some of the other shocks because the temperature was meant as a deterrent and disobeying curfew was only a minor infraction.

The artificial night sky looked the same as always, just a dark abyss. There were no stars or moon. In the morning, things would get warmer, and the sky would brighten slightly becoming a blank grayish color, but there would still be no sun nor clouds. I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen the real sky or experienced natural weather patterns. It was probably sometime before the war. The streets were all completely empty as to expected. You’d have to be insane to go out into this cold. Probably I was going slightly mad to be able to get on my bike and ride in this condition. I peddled as quickly as my frozen legs could take me until I reached the border, which was an enormous brick wall dividing this neighborhood from the next one. A sign warned me that trespassers would be sent to a rebel camp if caught, but I wasn’t interested in the other side of the wall. Instead I continued following the path of the wall until I reached a large, decrepit building. From the outside, it appeared completely abandoned with its paint chipping and shutters falling apart. A mixture of overgrown weeds and cobwebs encased its entrance as if to suggest that no one had come near this place in years. This was exactly what the party thought, and it needed to stay that way.

Now I know I’ve deemed you trustworthy and I’ve told you my biggest secret, but I’m not sure if I’m comfortable telling you someone else’s secret. So, to protect the parties involved, I won’t tell you how I discovered this place. I’ll try to explain its history, but I won’t use any names. Long before the Queen’s New Order outlawed forms of exploration and most types of science, this building used to be Rhye’s science museum and planetarium. Being on the edge of the border, it was accessible to all of the neighborhoods. I assumed back then there was no wall, but I could be wrong. Anyway, the building was left abandoned now that the new rules deemed it useless. Then one day, there was a young boy—let’s call him Poodle—Oh fuck it! I trust you, you seem like fellow rebels. His name was Brian May. Just don’t let him know I told you about him, okay lovies? Anyway, after the ban on music, all of the instruments in Rhye were destroyed. So, Brian’s father helped him build a brand new guitar from scratch. The only problem was it took so much creative thought that their bracelets went beyond the flashing red lights and officers caught them in the act. Brian’s father was arrested and sent to a rebel camp, but because Brian was still a boy, he was simply put on a watchlist. After that, Brian decided to turn this abandoned museum into a secret underground music club where he and his band would play almost every night. Rebels like me were welcomed and encouraged to play our music, but we had to be very careful. Again, I shouldn’t be telling you any of this. I don’t know why I keep spilling everything to you. I’m usually really good at keeping secrets. 

Glancing around one last time to ensure no one was watching, I ran up to the door and enacted the secret knock. * _Knock, knock, clap! Knock, knock, clap…_ * It made a pretty rocking beat! A particularly bulky and muscular man opened the door. “What’s the password?” he asked in a somewhat intimidating deep voice. “Red Special.” I whispered. Suddenly, his disapproving frown faded and he smiled and nodded. “Come on in, my friend.” he said, his voice sounding less strict but still just as deep. I slipped inside and at last felt at home. There were instruments everywhere with attached noise cancelling headphones allowing anyone to practice and play. People would scatter anonymous lyrics and notes on pieces of paper and leave them just about everywhere—the floor, table tops, piano benches, you name it. It was the only way for music to live on because the party would confiscate the papers if we dared to bring them out of these walls. 

I inhaled the sweet scent of tobacco and was reminded of how badly I needed a smoke. Yes, I know it’s a nasty habit, but I really don’t give a shit. I’m already a rebel, so I should be able to do whatever I please. Besides, I have a gut feeling that smoking won’t be the vice that leads to my doom. I wandered to the bar in the back of the room—well, it wasn’t a bar per say; it was more of a help yourself to the contraband drinks stocked in the refrigerator. I assumed Brian was the one who kept it full because somehow no matter how many beers people took, it was never empty. I grabbed a beer bottle out of habit, but my eyes were on the true treasure: a fresh packet of cigarets along with a lighter resting on the side of the refrigerator. I only took one of course to be polite because other people would obviously want some as well. Now that I had satisfied that desire, I made my way upstairs to the second floor of instruments where I found my trusted keyboard in the left corner. Okay, it technically wasn’t mine as all the instruments were provided for everyone to use, but this was the one I used most frequently. 

Papers containing my lyrics were stashed in the compartment beneath the piano bench. At least that was where I usually put them when I was done, but they weren’t there now! The compartment was completely empty. Could someone have taken them? It only figured that what might be the last time I ever worked on music was the time somebody stole all of my cherished notes. In a panicked daze, I checked the benches of all the other keyboards. I wasn’t sure why I even bothered considering I only used the keyboard in the left corner, but I wouldn’t disregard that by some miracle I’d find my lyrics somewhere else. I even ventured back down to the first floor and then up to the third floor knowing very well there was no damn point. On the first floor, there were no keyboards, just guitars and drums. The only thing on the third floor was the makeshift stage where Brian’s band, Smile, would perform. Unsurprisingly, the third floor was dark and empty since Smile was absent. 

“Well I hope you enjoy my lyrics!” I shouted to no one in particular, “It’s not like anyone will ever hear them anyway.” 

In frustration, I stormed out, but I was throwing such a fit that I forgot to look down as I was walking. Mind you the room was rather dark, so I wasn’t sure if I tripped over something on the ground or just my own clumsy feet, but the next thing I knew, I was falling. I grasped onto the curtains attached to the side of the stage to catch my balance. Thankfully, I didn’t tumble and hit the floor, but I did knock the curtain down off the makeshift rack and managed to rip it. As you probably figured out by now, I’m a big fan of Brian and Smile, but I never formally met them. If they found out I broke their bloody curtain, they’d probably hate me. They already had a lead singer, but this certainly hindered my chances of ever performing with them. Not that it mattered anyway. After tomorrow, I’d probably never come here again. As I tried to to reattach the ripped curtain to the rack, I noticed something that the curtain had been blocking. It was a door. I was already in enough trouble with the band, so I saw no harm in exploring what was most likely their dressing room. I found it strange that they needed one when they had no costumes outside of the dreadful tan jumpsuits. Much to my surprise, when I opened the door, I was greeted by a flight of stairs going up. I thought for sure that the third story was the top floor, but clearly I was wrong. Curiosity got the best of me; I ascended the stairs reaching what appeared to be a rooftop. 

My jaw dropped and my teary eyes traveled upward towards the vast sky in utter denial of what I was seeing. Stars! These were real stars, not the kind you see from vigorous love making, but legitimate astral lights twinkling up the night sky. I couldn’t believe it! I was looking up at the real sky, not the artificial one that I’d long accepted as the only thing that would ever be over my head. 

“I’m certainly dreaming.” I told myself calmly, “I probably fell asleep next to Mary. I’m not really here. That’s why my music is missing.” 

It seemed like the most plausible explanation. So if I was dreaming, I intended to cherish every sweet moment. I wasn’t sure how much time passed as I just gazed up at the stars longingly. It had been so many years since their brilliant sparkling light had graced my eyes. Finally, I averted my view to see what else was up on this mysterious roof with me. That was when I knew I for sure that was dreaming. Beside a guitar resting on an otherwise empty table, there was a magnificent grand piano just waiting to be played. Ever since moving here, I only had access to keyboards. I wouldn’t complain, but playing on a real beautiful piano was so much more spectacular. I really didn’t need my lyric papers anyway, they were all stored in my head…at least until I agreed to some horrid contract clause forcing me to forget them. I shook the nightmarish thought out of my mind and ran to the bench eagerly. The shocks from my bracelet were more intense than usual, but I was so excited that I didn’t even notice. I felt every word I sang to the point that I was holding back tears. Then I choked on a verse truly coming to terms with what could happen to me once I was given my contract. 

_“If I'm not back again this time tomorrow…”_

I might not be back again this time tomorrow. I might not even be me anymore. Suddenly, the piano keys became wet from the tears dripping down my cheeks. 

“Carry on. Carry on.” A voice said from behind me making me jump. 

I turned around to see the smiling face of the curly haired poodle man himself. That’s right, darlings, I was in the presence of legendary rebel and rockstar, Brian May! Now, I’d love to tell you all about our very first encounter, but I’m afraid I’m far too emotional at the moment. Besides, he probably has many things he wants to tell you that I left out of my chronicles. So I’ll let him tell his side of the story . Goodbye for now, lovies, I’ll talk to you again soon when I’m not such a mess. 


	2. As It Began

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian reflects on his life as a rebel and recalls how he met Roger and formed Smile.

_ Brian's POV _

The first time I met Freddie and heard him sing…Wait, let me go back. I’m not sure how much Freddie told you about me. Don’t worry I’m not mad that he told you what he knew. I’m actually more upset that he keeps referring to me as Poodle. I suppose he’s just jealous of my natural curls. 

I guess I should start with the night my mother and I were put on a rebel watchlist. It was within the first few weeks of the Queen issuing her New Order, so we weren't taking any of the oppressive rules too seriously. My ten year old self had just started taking a liking to guitar, so, naturally I cried when they banned music and destroyed all the instruments. My father thought we wouldn’t get in any trouble if we rebelled a bit. As wrong as he was, I’m grateful that he decided to risk his safety for my benefit. What happened that night shaped who I grew up to become. I could still remember every detail of us crafting the Red Special together. Of course, the moment we realized that it actually worked and functioned like a legitimate guitar, our bracelets were both flashing red. The pain had been surprisingly bearable for me because I was so excited to test out my new guitar and play again. I think Dad just endured the pain to see me smile again. By then, it was too late. Our bracelets stopped flashing and just remained a glowing red. We had only a few seconds to recognize what was happening before several armed officers in full body gear came crashing through the window. It was all a blur from there, but yet I still can see it happening all before my eyes like a reenactment. To this day I’m still haunted by the traumatic moment. Mom rushed downstairs and started screaming as the officers forcefully grabbed us and scanned our bracelets one by one. First was Dad’s.

“Rebel!” The officer declared, using a special stylus to initiate a terrible shock from his bracelet. I was petrified as I helplessly watched my father pass out. An officer was holding me back, so there wasn’t anything I could do but scream and cry as Dad was carried out to be sent to a rebel camp. That was the last time I ever saw him. 

The remaining officers continued, scanning Mom’s bracelet next. She was deemed a non threat since she was mostly unaware of our crimes. Still, she was put on a rebel watchlist for not reporting any suspicious behavior. Finally, they scanned mine, and I was not surprised by the result. No one under the age of thirteen could be sent to a rebel camp, so because of I was only ten at the time, I was deemed a non threat as well. 

“Escort these two to the watchlist neighborhood, and I’ll send their information back to the palace.” An officer instructed. Just like that, we were sent away, never to return to our old neighborhood or life ever again. I could go into more details about that night, but revisiting it always brings me great pain. Those are the basic logistics you should know anyway. 

Being on a watchlist and living in the specified neighborhood honestly wasn’t as bad as you’d think it would be. Ironically, it gave me more incentive to engage in rebellious activities. I would not be receiving a contract like everyone else because as a rebel,my “true self” wasn’t meant to transition into Rhye’s society. That also meant I would not receive a soulmate, but I could live with that. We were assigned with the more difficult jobs that most people didn’t want, mainly those involving manual labor and heavy lifting. Early on, I was given the task of traveling from neighborhood to neighborhood to collect contraband and haul the banned objects all the way to the incineration center. Sometimes, I’d be able to make a stop in Neighborhood 1, the only neighborhood given access to cars and trucks, but this was for objects that required more than one man to lift. Although I was heavily supervised during these excursions, I still had access to the other neighborhoods as well as the contraband. I tried to save as many items as I could without getting caught. When traveling through the tunnels beneath the wall to get from neighborhood to neighborhood, I would leave notes to communicate with fellow rebels. We all shared inside information on just about everything ranging from the inner workings of rebel camps to the latest list of people to receive contracts from each neighborhood. I had received letters (and written back) to several people inside rebel camps, but had yet to find the whereabouts of my father. My friends on the inside were looking, but they had no such luck. 

One day, much to my delight, I was sent to the abandoned science museum and planetarium to collect leftover contraband from inside. The building was slated to be demolished, but because it was on the edge of the border, knocking it down could breach the wall, so it was just left abandoned as a result. Before the exploration ban was issued, I had dreams of becoming an astrophysicist. I used to love coming to this museum when it was open for the public. At night, the upstairs planetarium would open up to reflect the real night sky rather than just the projections showing throughout the day. Now of course we had the horrid artificial sky, so the sight of the bright stars against the dark sky was nothing more than a fading memory. However, it looked like the ceiling of the building was tall enough to surpass the barrier. I was eager to sneak back up there just for a quick peak.

Well aware that a supervisor was eyeing my every move, I stuffed the last remaining telescope into the destruction bag. I knew for a fact that I wasn’t going to allow Galileo’s work go to waste. Somehow I’d save it before it was sent to the incineration center. 

“Alright. That looks like everything. One more floor to go and then we can get out of here!” The supervisor said, “Now, you carry that heavy bag up the stairs and I’ll meet you up there, alright.” 

“The lift is still broken no matter what floor you use it on.” I pointed out. We had been going through this routine ever since we had discovered the lift was no longer in use. 

“Don’t talk back, May!”

I realized it was dumb to argue with him. Besides, his failed attempt to use the lift was the perfect distraction for me to dash upstairs to take in the stars without interruption (although part of me was convinced it was too good to be true). I let out a startled gasp when my theory was confirmed however. I was expecting to see the real sky again, but nothing prepared me for how much more beautiful it was than I even remembered. I also noticed the grand piano sitting at the center of the rooftop, and I recalled the planetarium often hosting live music under the stars sessions at night. As I heard the supervisor approaching from behind, I swiftly hid the telescope beneath an abandoned table. With one last look at the shimmering stars, I returned into the darkened interior of the abandoned museum. I slammed the door shut and purposefully fumbled with the knob so that it would be jammed. I’d fix it later, but for now I couldn’t let anyone know about this secret. 

“Knob’s broken. I can’t get in.” I nervously explained to the supervisor trying to sound convincing. 

He tried to open the door, and I concealed my grin when he was unable to do so. Eventually, he gave up and grunted something angrily under his breath. My mission was a success! Still, I was struck with inspiration, so I knew it didn’t end there. In the next few months, I completely renovated the insides of decrepit building, transforming it into a secret lounge for rebels and musicians alike. I was surprised that the movement gained so much success so quickly. Soon, the place was populated with rebels on a nightly basis and I became a bit of a celebrity. Complete strangers would walk up to me and thank me for my efforts and give me a big hug as if they’d known me for years. It was truly a surreal experience. Slowly, other sources of contraband aside from instruments began appearing. A previously nonexistent refrigerator was now almost always fully stocked with beers, and there was even a pack of cigarettes constantly being replaced with fresh ones. Everyone thanked me for that as well, but I didn’t take credit for what wasn’t my accomplishment. 

“I only bring the instruments that I manage to save from incineration. I don’t know who’s bringing the other things. If you find out who is, you can thank him or her for me.” I would say. 

Out of curiosity, I decided to sit down by the refrigerator one night. I refused the leave the spot until I found out who was bringing in the drinks. It took a few hours and I had nearly fallen asleep several times, but eventually I uncovered my culprit. A boy around my age with long blonde hair and striking blue eyes was carrying a twelve pack of beer. 

“Ah!” I proclaimed, “So you’re the one that’s been supplying us with the alcohol.” 

“Guilty.” He replied in a distinct, high but raspy voice, “I hope you’re not mad. I really appreciate everything you do here. It’s been years since I’ve been able to play my drums and sing. I wanted to find a way to repay you.” 

“Are the cigarettes from you as well?”

“Yes they are. I figured it would get more people to come here—you know _drum_ up some business, pun intended.” 

“I hope you’re a better musician than you are comedian because that was horrible.” I laughed.

He grinned and extended his hand. “Roger Taylor.”

“Brian May.”

“I know that. Everyone knows that. You’re famous.” 

“I guess I am. So, how are you able to get such a large supply of drinks and cigarettes here every night?” 

Roger shrugged. “Neighborhood 1.” 

I nodded. That made sense. Certain neighborhood had their perks. In addition to being the only neighborhood with cars and trucks, Neighborhood 1 was known for having the loosest enforcement when it came to drugs and alcohol. 

“You probably know how to drive a car.” I reasoned. 

“Hell yeah! I love cars.” I would later discover that this was an understatement. Roger paused and looked back at me with confusion in his blue eyes. “Are you not allowed to get a driver’s license since you’re on a watchlist?”

At first I was just as perplexed by his questioned. Then I remembered that not everyone had access to all of the neighborhoods. Roger probably didn’t know that he was indeed very lucky to be able to drive.

“Neighborhood 1 is the only neighborhood that allows cars. I thought you knew that.” 

His eyes widened in shock. “H-How…What? That’s crazy!”

“Bicycles.” Was my only response. 

“So…if I get moved to another neighborhood after I receive my contract, I won’t be able to drive anymore?” Poor thing was practically on the verge of tears. Was this really his main concern about getting contracted? I was aware of so many horror stories proving that cars should be the last thing on his mind. Honestly, I was glad I didn’t have to deal with the stress of knowing one day I’d end up on that contract receiving list. 

“I probably won’t get moved to another neighborhood.” Roger rationalized, “My dream is to be assigned a job as a truck driver because all the other jobs available are boring. Well, that’s my backup dream anyway.”

“What’s the real dream then?” 

“I want to play in a rock and roll band, but that’s never going to happen.” 

I was surprised by how dismissive Roger was of his true ambition. The whole point of this lounge was to prove that certain things were still possible. “We could start a band.” I suggested.

“I’d love to jam out with you some time, but just two people isn’t enough for a band. We’d need at least one other person. I wouldn’t mind doing lead vocals, but it’d be a strain to keep up with it along with the drums. We should find someone who can sing.” 

“And play bass guitar.” I added. 

When I saw Roger’s wide grin that mirrored my own, I knew we were onto something special. Thus began our quest to create an illegal rock band. Soon enough, Smile was born. Although it originally consisted of only me and Roger for a while, we were later approached by a fellow named Tim Staffell who offered to be our lead singer and bass guitar player. While the three of us bonded, Roger and I ended up closer than we were with Tim. I wasn’t sure why that happened, but it just seemed to occur naturally. For our time together as band, I was convinced that this was as good as things could get. We were essentially living the dream, and as far as I was concerned I never wanted to wake from this dreamers’ ball. Inevitably, however, morning came. 

We noticed that Tim was particularly off during practice one evening. He was hitting all the wrong notes and forgetting the lyrics. We all had off days, and it was difficult to perform with the pain from the bracelet shocks, but Roger was growing impatient with Tim’s mistakes. 

“Tim, what is wrong with you?” he shouted. 

“T-the bracelets.” 

“That’s not an excuse, mate. The bracelets actually _help_ me you know. How else would I ever know I could sing that high, if I never screamed from the pain!” 

“Maybe we should take a break.” I intervened before the two could get into a fight. 

“A-Actually…there’s something I want to tell you guys.” Tim said hesitantly, “I um, I’m getting contracted next week.” 

My heart sank when I realized the implications of what this meant. Tim may be the same person, but would he still have the motivation to join us here on a nearly nightly basis? From the stories I heard, I had a horrible feeling in my gut that we’d be losing a dear friend. 

“You think you’ll still be able to play with us afterwards?” Roger asked, his tone now considerably soft. 

Tim shook his head. “I don’t know.” 

“I’ve heard stories.” I whispered realizing that I had an obligation to give Tim a very important warning to heed. 

“Bri, please don’t scare him with that bloody blind artist urban legend. We don’t even know if it’s real!” Roger scolded. 

“No, these stories are real. I have inside information. From what I’ve heard, before you’re given your contract, you’re given a test. They take off your bracelet and tell you to engage in any creative or rebellious thought you’ve ever imagined. It’s a trap. The more you do, the more they’ll take from you in the end. They’ll stifle your entire personality if you let them.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Tim muttered. 

“I’m serious. Don’t do anything when they take your bracelet off. Just sit perfectly still.”

“You really think that’ll work?” Roger asked skeptically, “Where do you even get this inside information from anyway?” 

“Letters I write and retrieve throughout the tunnels. I’m actually in touch with several people in rebel camps who refused to sign their contracts. They were the ones who told me about the test.” 

“You’re allowed to refuse your contract?” Tim asked, his pessimistic eyes lighting up for a brief moment. 

“Weren’t you listening? You’ll end up in a rebel camp if you do.” Roger said.

Without warning, Tim put down his guitar and stormed out. Roger attempted to follow him, but I stopped him explaining that Tim probably needed some time and space to contemplate and accept what was going to happen to him. 

“But he’ll come back, right?” 

“If he can.” ‘ _If he’s still the same person when all of this is said and done.’_ The thought crossed my mind, but I didn’t dare speak it out loud. 

Tim continued to show up throughout the rest of the week. None of us mentioned the contract, but there was a tangible tension in the air whenever we were together. The night before Tim received his contract, we had a small goodbye party on the starry rooftop. Considering the atmosphere of these past few days, it wasn’t surprising that were no spoken words. The three of us just sat and sipped some beer. Then Tim casually waved and said goodbye before he parted. That was it. There was no over the top crying or grand farewell soliloquies. It was just three acquaintances having a quiet, normal evening together. 

“He’ll come back, right?” Roger posed the same question from earlier in the week. I had the same answer. “If he can.” 

Weeks went by and we had yet to hear from Tim. I asked around through my exchange of letters, trying to discover his whereabouts. Unfortunately, no one knew what neighborhood he was sent to, and no one in any of the rebel camps had seen him. I didn’t know what to do. It was that same helpless sinking feeling I got when I was reminded that I still hadn’t confirmed the fate of my father. I was powerless to seek answers to the questions that I desperately wanted. Regardless, it was time to accept the inevitable: Tim was not coming back any time soon. 

“Do you think we should look for a new lead singer?” I posed the idea to Roger one day. We were careful not to mention Tim too often as if his name were a forbidden word. So he was probably shocked that I so blatantly broachedthe subject. 

“I-I still can’t believe Tim would do this to us! How could he betray us like this? Contract or not, he shouldn’t abandon us.” Roger whined. 

“Maybe he didn’t have a choice. You don’t know what the contract made him do.” 

“Even still, he could try and get in contact with one of us to at least explain what happened to him. I know it’s only a matter of time until I get my contract, and I promise you, Brian, that I won’t torture you the way Tim is torturing us. I’ll try my very best to get back here and still be in the band with you, and if I can’t for whatever reason, then I’ll reach out to you somehow just so you know why I left _._ ”

“You can’t make that promise.” I sighed, “Things change once you get that contract.” 

“How much could they change? Tim could just leave you one of those bloody letters you’re always talking about!” Roger was screaming at this point. 

“Maybe we should consider holding auditions for a new singer?” I brought up the idea once again.

Roger calmed himself and sat back down. “That seems like the best idea right now. Clearly, Tim doesn’t want to be in our band anymore.” 

“We don’t know that for sure.” I reminded him. 

After that, we didn’t bring up Tim again, but we did talk about the possibility of his replacement. In the days to come, we auditioned several people, but unfortunately, none of them seemed to live up to our standards. Either their voices weren’t powerful enough and got lost behind our loud instruments or the pain from the bracelets hindered their ability to perform. At first Roger had a lot of feedback for everyone we heard sing, but a few days later, he became oddly quiet, barely muttering anything in response to any of the performers.

“What did you think of him? I don’t think his voice was strong enough.” I commented on the singer we just watched, “Do you want to hear someone else?” 

“Just pick any of them, Bri. They’re all the same. It doesn’t matter.” Roger said flippantly. 

“Well, we don’t want to sound bad.” I said bluntly. 

“I said it doesn’t fucking matter!” Roger shouted, his blue eyes watering with tears, “I won’t be here long enough to know whether or not we sound like shit.” 

In the moment, I knew exactly what happened, but I didn’t say a word. Instead, Roger wiped the tears from his eyes and confirmed my fears. “It happened to me. I knew it was coming, but I-I…I wish I had more time. They’re summoning me next week. It’s so quick.” They typically gave you a week to prepare for your contract and new life, but Roger was right, it was not enough time. Still without saying a word, I gave him a consoling hug, and allowed him to cry. 

“I’m still keeping that promise I made to you after Tim left.” he sobbed, “You can replace me if you want, but you’ll know why I can’t play anymore.” 

“If you can’t play anymore, I’ll go back to having a solo career. There’s no point.”

“Thanks, Bri. That really means a lot. You know you’re my very best friend. I can’t imagine ever leaving you.” 

It was true. Ever since I caught him with those beer bottles years ago, we had been coming here nearly every night. I couldn’t recall a night in which we weren’t together—jamming out, laughing over a beer, or fighting over something frivolous. We were like brothers. Maybe that was why I felt closer to Roger than to Tim. 

“I know you’ll try your best to keep in touch. For now, you should know that you’re also my best friend. Let’s not talk about next week and just enjoy the time we have left together.” 

By this point, we were both crying. I knew if I lost Roger, it would hurt a lot more than losing Tim, so I refused to think about it. I’d grieve once he was actually gone and not a single second sooner. 

“You know what we should do,” Roger said, distracting me from my thoughts, “We should find the writers of all of these anonymous lyrics. I bet you one of them could probably sing better than any of the blokes who auditioned for us.”

“Ah, so now you care?” I teased. 

“I’m serious, Brian.” 

Before I could even figure out his logic, he was already running around the room, snatching every paper he could get his hands on. There was no way for certain that we could track down any of the lyricists, and there was no guarantee that they could sing well. However, Roger was happily distracted from his situation, so I didn’t stop him. A short while later, Roger returned from his laps up and down the building keen on collecting all of the papers. I expected him to be grinning like he was when he first came up with the idea, but he appeared somewhat perturbed and dare I say it afraid. The poor thing was practically trembling.

“I think there’s murderers here in addition to rebels.” he whispered. 

I rolled my eyes and took the piece of paper he was shakily clinging to. Sure, Roger wrote simple songs about his car and such, but I thought he could understand a metaphor. 

“It’s a confession to murder.” He warned as I read the lyrics. 

_‘Mama, just killed a man_

_Put a gun against his head_

_Pulled my trigger, now he's dead_

_Mama, life had just begun_

_But now I've gone and thrown it all away…’_

“It’s just a song, and a pretty deep one at that, but it shouldn’t be taken literally.” I assured him.

I continued to read and started to feel somewhat concerned. Maybe we should take this more seriously. It may not be a confession to murder, but it could perhaps be a cry for help. “On second thought, it might be a suicide note. Listen to this: _I don't want to die sometimes wish I'd never been born at all._ ” Those words sent shivers down my spine, which was also a line included in the lyrics.

“Whoever wrote it is either mad or genius.” Roger concluded. 

“Or a little bit of both.” I conceded.

So naturally, over the course of that week, we debated over the interpretation of the lyrics and tried to find the crazy person who concocted such a wild song. Perhaps it was denial, but I was so enthralled by the mystery that I forgot that it was my last day with Roger. Then he reminded me. 

“Can you promise me something before I leave?” 

“Anything.” 

“Find out who wrote this damn thing and ask him what it means. It’s eating me up inside.” 

I laughed. “Believe me, I’ve been losing sleep over it as well. I want to know just as badly as you do.”

“I’ve been losing sleep for other reasons.” Roger said quietly.

“Whatever happens, I’ll always cherish the memories we’ve had over these last few years. You’ve been a great friend, Rog.” 

“Stop! I don’t want to cry again. I already bawled my eyes out this morning, and I’m sure I’m going to do a lot more crying tomorrow.” 

His mention of tears made it seem even more real. I certainly didn’t want to cry either, so I’d put on a brave face for both of our benefits. 

“How different do you think I’ll be? Do you think I’ll still know how to drive?” 

“They might change everything about you, but I have a feeling you’ll still love cars no matter what happens.” 

We both laughed at that remark and I was happy we weren’t crying. Of course, Roger had to say something to change that. 

“I promise I won’t forget you, Bri.”

It was rare, but I heard stories of contract forcing memory manipulation. Typically it was to make people forget skills (such as playing an instrument) rather than their loved ones, but it was still a possibility. Maybe that was what happened to Tim. I couldn’t imagine facing a total rewiring of my brain. 

“You know you don’t have to sign.” I reminded him. 

“Yes I do! I don’t want to end up in a rebel camp. I know you have friends on the inside or whatever, but I’ve heard the kind of fucked up shit that goes on in there. I can’t survive that! I have no choice but to sign that damn contract no matter what I’m agreeing to.” 

“There is always a choice. If they make you do something so awful that it’s inconceivable, risking the rebel camp might be worth it.”

“I don’t want to disappear and never be heard from again like your father!” Roger shouted. 

I flinched from his words. I could see that Roger regretted bringing my dad into this, but it still hurt. I didn’t need the reminder that I’d never see Dad ever again. For all I knew, he could be dead. Pretty soon, Roger was going to disappear on me as well whether I was ready to admit it or not. He was keen on keeping his promise, but he couldn’t predict how far they would go to rip his identity from him. 

“Bri, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” 

“I-I need some air.” 

I was surprised Roger didn’t follow me as I made my way upstairs. Maybe he knew I needed some time to just stargaze and cool down. What I never expected was to hear an incredible voice echoing all the way from the bottom of the stairwell. Not only was the voice rich and beautiful, but it was also singing the very lyrics that had been haunting us this past week. “No way!” I whispered and ran upstairs to finally discover who this mysterious crooner was. 

The man was sitting at the piano with his back to me, so I couldn’t make out much of his features. It also didn’t help that it was complete dark aside from the stars shining down little beams of light. From what I saw, he was skinny with long black hair. His fingernails were painted black oddly enough. The style seemed to suit him though and for a second I pictured him fully unrestrained in some elaborately flamboyant costume instead of the tan jumpsuit. The man choked on the last verse and stumbled into a soft sob. It was strange to see someone with such a powerful voice like that of an angel also express such vulnerability. Part of me just wanted to let him be. Against my better judgement, I spoke up, saying the only words to come to mind as I had been studying the lyrics all week.

“Carry on. Carry on.”

And I believe now you are all caught up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a lot of exposition, so I'm sorry if it feels rushed. The next chapters should flow better. Chapter 3 will also be in Brian's POV, and we will see what happens when he meets Freddie.


	3. Mr. Mercury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian and Roger meet Freddie

_Brian's POV_

_"Carry on. Carry on."...._

He turned around, finally revealing his face. He had a sharp jaw with high cheekbones and mysterious dark eyes. Smeared makeup and tears were rolling down the sides of his cheeks, but he didn't wipe them away. He just stared at me. From what I could gauge he could be either scared or embarrassed or a combination of the two. Although it was hard to tell the mixed emotions hidden behind his eyes.

"A-are you asking me to carry on with the song, or are you reciting my lyrics back to me, darling?" He finally spoke, in a smooth somewhat posh accent. I took note of his irregularly large teeth and overbite and found it oddly suiting.

"Both." I decided.

"How do you know my lyrics anyway? Were you the one who stole them?" He didn't sound accusatory, more curious.

"Actually my friend, Roger, did. It's kind of a long story. I'm Brian by the way."

"I know. I've been watching you Roger and Tim for a while now. I'm a fan."

_He_ was a fan? After hearing him sing for the first time, I was convinced that he wasn't human. Here he was humbly praising our work.

"Why haven't you introduced yourself? We could've let you sing with us."

"No, don't be ridiculous. I don't want to upstage Tim." He said with a small but smug smile tugging at his lips as if he knew that he would inevitably overpower Tim with his incredible vocals.

"What's your name?"

"Farrokh Bulsara, but everyone just calls me Freddie. I think it suits me better. Don't you?" I realized he was being rhetorical when he answered his own question. "I'm going to have my name legally changed to Freddie Bulsara tomorrow when I get my contract. If they're deciding everything else for me, I should at least get a say over my own name, right?"

All I got out of that was the depressing fact that Freddie was in the same state as Roger. This was likely the first and last time I'd ever see him. Even from this brief interaction, I could tell he was very unique. So, I knew for sure that his contract would reflect his individuality by asking him to erase it all.

"Oh look at me, spilling my guts out to a total stranger. I don't know what's gotten into me lately." Freddie lamented

I could relate to that. Recently, I have felt the need to vent for no particular reason. I mean I'm telling you guys this story, so that says something. Maybe it's your presence that makes people confide in each other.

"Anyway," Freddie continued, "I didn't mean to be up here if I'm not allowed. I just saw the stars and the piano and I—"

"—Everyone's allowed." I assured him, "I've just kept it private because I like to come up here when I need to think or destress. Stargazing is good for that. So far you're the first person to find it on your own. I had to point out the hidden door to Roger and Tim. You can come and go as you please. I really don't mind."

"Thank you, dear, but this will probably be the last time I'm here." Freddie sighed sadly.

"I'm sorry."

"Funny, you're the first person to ever have an honest reaction to hearing about my contract. Everyone congratulates me. They're always celebratory, never sorry. I appreciate that you acknowledge the contract for what it is—a death sentence."

Before I could take in his solemn words, Freddie suddenly started screaming in pain. I realized that his bracelet must have picked up on his rebelliously negative depiction of the system and was giving him a suitable punishment. It was gruesome to watch and even more difficult to know there was nothing I could do. When the shock subsided, I wanted to hug Freddie and assure him that everything would be alright. But I didn't want to lie. Nothing could possibly comfort him right now.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, you're not going through this alone. Roger's also getting contracted tomorrow." I wasn't sure what else to say to make the situation any less worse.

"Shit! I guess we're both fucked, then. Wish him luck for me, darling. Maybe he'll come out of this alright."

I decided to change the subject to something more uplifting. "You know Roger's last request was for me to identify the writer of the song he found."

"You mean the song he stole." Freddie corrected, but he didn't sound too concerned with Roger's antics, "Are you satisfied? Did I live up to your expectations?"

"I think you've exceeded my expectations. The song is...I don't know how to describe it, but it's a work of genius I'll tell you that much." I received a minor shock just for admitting that something so outlandishly creative was worthy of praise and positivity. It didn't hurt because I had grown numb to the smaller shocks over time.

Freddie oddly covered his mouth with hand as he grinned widely. Perhaps it was to hide his teeth, but taking in his talent, personality, and other features, they honestly weren't that noticeable.

"I'm glad you like it, dear. It's a shame you'll never see the finished product."

"It's not finished?" I gasped. It felt so complete with that final gut punching lyric of wishing to never be born at all.

"Oh no, not even close. There's going to be an entire operatic section and a—Fuck!" Freddie screamed as he was shocked yet again. I waited for him to settle himself before I delved into more questions. The fact that shocks were so casual that we could just carry on with conversation afterwards was a horrid reality, but I digress.

"Did you say operatic section?"

"Yes that's right. I used to love going to the opera back before the war." He wistfully looked up at the starry sky.

"But it's a piano ballad."

"No. I told you it's not finished yet. The piano ballad is just the first of three sections. I don't want to talk about the arrangement anymore because I'm fucking tired of getting all these damn shocks."

"Well, can you at least tell me what it means? Roger and I are dying to know."

Freddie frowned. "What would be the fun in that?"

"I mean it's obviously not a literal confession to murder which is what Roger first thought, but I want to know what—"

"—It means whatever you want it to mean!" Freddie cut me off with the vaguest excuse of an answer to my question.

"Come on. You've got to tell me something. What does it mean?"

"How can I ever answer that question when I don't even bloody know it means? Like I said, darling, it means whatever you want it to mean."

"Well, Rog is gonna be let down."

"Whatever you tell him, he'll forget by tomorrow, so what does it matter? I won't even be able to finish the song." Freddie tried to look away so he could hide the fact that he was crying.

After giving it some thought, I retrieved my telescope from its hiding place beneath the table. It was the very last one in all of Rhye, so I kept it hidden and never showed it anyone—not even Roger. However, I wanted to leave Freddie with something hopeful before they tore away his identity.

"Whenever I get overwhelmed or upset, I look at the stars. I think it'll help you feel better."

"Is that a  _real_ telescope?" Freddie asked in a hushed whisper, wiping his eyes.

"It sure is. Here. Let me show you how to use it."

I adjusted the telescope and let Freddie look through it so he could examine the sky and all of the stars and planets. "It's so beautiful!" he gasped.

"I know." I nodded in agreement.

I noticed that Freddie's bracelet was flashing red, but he didn't seem to react to the shocks. They were probably some of the smaller ones.

"Hey, Brian, check out this star! It looks really cool and different from the others."

I took the telescope from him and checked his position, spotting a bright, astral object shining in the distance, but if I knew correctly, it wasn't a star. "I think that's a planet."

"Which one?"

"Um...Could be either Venus or Mercury."  **AN: I have no idea if Brian could really identify a planet just by looking at it. I don't know anything about science or astronomy. But Brian's a rock god and astrophysicist so he can probably achieve the impossible for all I know.**

"Mercury you say?" Freddie asked eagerly, "Mind if I look again?"

Freddie spent a significant amount of time gazing at the planet he spotted. I had always been intrigued by science and exploration, so I was glad to see I wasn't alone in this fascination.

"That's me." Freddie declared.

"What?"

"I'm Mercury. That's my  _real_ new name. From now on, call me Freddie Mercury."

Or maybe Freddie was just drunk. Either way, I went along with his wackiness. "Okay, but I told you, I don't know for sure that it's Mercury. It could be Venus."

"Well, Freddie Venus just sounds fucking stupid. No. I'm Mr. Mercury. Yes, Mr. Freddie Mercury. Listen to the sound of that! I like it—I like it a lot!"

"Why are you so keen on changing your name?"

"It's the one part of me I get to keep. Heaven forbid I get moved to neighborhood that has strict enforcement on beauty products. I don't know what I'd do without my makeup, and without my precious hair styling products I'd end up looking like you—No offense."

I laughed trying to imagine what Freddie would look like with my signature mop like curly hair. I was the only person who pull off the look and still look half decent.

"On the bright side, I'll probably finally get my teeth fixed. I'm not sure how I feel about that though." Freddie said, "I'm praying it doesn't affect my singing. I don't know how I could live with myself if something were to happen to my voice."

My mind immediately played through the worst possible scenarios. I had heard stories from firsthand accounts of how talent was completely stripped away from individuals. Anything that made a person special was stolen because according to the party's messed up logic, if no one is special or unique, then everyone is equal. It was our individuality that created an unjust world, the party reasoned. That was how they justified forcing someone like Freddie to undergo vocal surgery. I shuddered at the thought, but I figured I should say something comforting. It was so hard not to lie in order to sugarcoat things.

"You don't know for sure what they'll ask you to change physically or mentally." True. The contract could ask you just about anything. You don't know until you receive it.

"Hey, Bri, are you up here?" Roger called. He was probably looking for me after I had run off. "Listen, Brian. I didn't mean what I said about your dad. I was taking out my own frustration on you and—" He stopped talking when he reached the top of the stairwell and saw Freddie holding the telescope.

"Roger, this is Freddie Mercury. Freddie, this is Roger Taylor, but you're a fan of ours so you probably already know him."

"I do." Freddie said, "It's good to finally meet you for real rather than just watching you behind a drum set up on a stage."

"Do you sing?" Roger blurted.

"He's the one." I confirmed, "He wrote the song."

"No fucking way!" Roger proclaimed, his face lighting up with a grin, "Brian and I have spent hours and hours looking at that lyric sheet. You need to tell us what it means!"

"It means whatever you want it to mean." Freddie repeated much to Roger's dismay.

"Don't bother asking. That's all he'll tell you." I said, "Believe me, I tried."

"Why should I ruin a perfectly good song for you by tainting it with my own interpretation? It should be about what you want to hear, not what I think." Freddie contended.

"That's a letdown." Roger groaned, "Can you at least sing it? I really want to hear it set to music."

"Of course, darling." Freddie agreed and returned to the piano.

Once again, I was stunned by Freddie's talent and intensity. His raw vocal power was beyond anything I'd ever experienced. One look at a jaw dropped Roger told me he felt the same way.

"Holy shit!" Roger whispered.

Freddie hid his smile behind his hand again. After hearing him mention his teeth, I was convinced of my theory. However, with the voice of an angel, nothing should make him feel self conscious, let alone something as insignificant as his teeth.

"Do you play bass?" Roger asked.

"No. Why?"

"Because you are the new lead singer of Smile. We'll just find someone else to be our new bass player."

As much as I agreed with Roger's abrupt decision, I knew we had to be more pragmatic. Both he and Freddie were receiving their contracts tomorrow. Therefore, the idea of maintaining the band might be a little far fetched.

"Oh, Roger, dear, I'm afraid I can't. I'm getting contracted tomorrow. I won't be the same me. Otherwise it'd be my dream to sing with you." Freddie said bleakly.

"I'm also getting contracted tomorrow. I say fuck it. We'll meet back here tomorrow night. See if we can still play. Can they really change us that much?"

We all knew the answer to that question. No one said anything, but the silence spoke for itself. I wanted to remain hopeful, but things were very grim indeed.

"I should get going. I don't want my family to wake up and notice that I've disappeared." Freddie said, "It was lovely meeting you both."

"Good luck, Freddie. I hope we see you again and actually do get a chance to be in a band." I said.

"Thank you, Brian for everything." Before I knew what was happening, we were hugging. Then Freddie went to embrace Roger as well. Who knew this day would be so emotionally draining?

"Keep yourself alive." Roger told him.

Freddie nodded. "You too, darling."

As soon as Freddie left, Roger clenched his fists. "I swear if they mess with his voice, I might just revolt!" He covered his mouth as soon as the words flew out, but we both knew it was too late. It was true that Roger had discovered his incredibly high range through screaming from the shocks, but that did not make it a pleasant experience both to witness and go through. Suggesting a revolution was perhaps one of the highest forms of rebellion you could undergo, so Roger's punishment was not a minor shock to say the least. With no other way to comfort my friend, I went in for a hug because that seemed to be a trend tonight. Shaking his head, Roger stepped back from my touch. I was met with his teary blue eyes that seemed to tell me everything I needed to know. Things were not going to get better any time soon. Without another word, Roger turned and went downstairs, leaving me all alone on the rooftop with nothing but the sound of my own thoughts and the consoling shimmers of constellations above me. When did everything turn to shit?

Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, I heard the familiar wail of sirens coming from downstairs. I froze, remembering the same sound blaring through the broken windows of my old home before they took my dad away. Suddenly, I found myself back in that same helpless situation. This time I decided to take matters into my own hands. There had to be something I could do.

I rushed downstairs in time to see a team of officers surrounding a shaking boy who they had pinned to the ground. A smashed bass guitar was on the floor next to him; it wasn't destroyed beyond remedy but the instrument was certainly broken. One look at the glowing red light on his bracelet told me what had happened. He must have played beyond the shock limit and alerted the party to come and arrest him. I instantly empathized with the boy as the tears streamed down his cheeks. He was young—probably seventeen or eighteen at the oldest, but he appeared very fragile, and there was an innocence behind his grayish green eyes. The boy locked eyes with me as one of the officers holding him down scanned his bracelet. "I-I'm sorry." he choked. The deflated sound in his voice broke my heart.

"John Richard Deacon born on August the 19th 1951." The officer announced, "Rebel!"

I knew I had to do something as the shocks knocked John out, and he was carried away just like my dad had been all those years ago. Still, I wasn't sure how I could possibly put a stop to this. It was as if history was doomed to repeat itself in a vicious cycle.

"Wow!" An officer proclaimed, "You were right, Tim. I thought this place was long abandoned, but it's full of contraband, and I bet there are more rebels hiding. We're lucky the signal alerted us to this one."

I let out a startled gasp as I recognized the fellow officer he was addressing. Unfortunately, this alerted them to my location, but I was too stunned to worry about what they might do to me. I was too busy staring at my former friend and bandmate, Tim Staffell now now sporting a party uniform and machine gun. He looked so different from the man I knew. Although his face was the same, his eyes had grown sinister. More significantly, his physique had changed. He had became physically taller, now nearly my height, and he was well built appearing ready to take down anyone in a fight.

"Ah." Tim smirked when he saw me, "If it isn't the worst rebel of them all! Boys, pin him down and scan him. I'm sure you'll find a history of major infractions."

"T-Tim!" I cried, attempting to fight off the officers, "What the hell did they do to you?"

"This my true self. I was always meant to become and officer and serve the party. You and your rebellious spirit tried to lead me astray with music!" Tim scoffed, "It's people like you, Brian, who need to be taken care of. Hopefully, I'll find Roger next."

That was the last thing I recall before I blacked out. Now I suppose I won't do much good telling the story while unconscious. Don't worry I'm not dead. There's more to come. For now though, I'm sure you've grown tired of me narrating for two chapters in a row. Maybe it's time you go see how Roger and Freddie are handling contract day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh! A cliff hanger. What is going to happen to Brian and Deaky? So what do you guys think so far? As Brian said, the next two chapters will be from Roger's and Freddie's POVs respectively. Then we'll catch up with Brian and get to see more of Deaky as well.


	4. Ride the Wild Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger gets his contract and things do not go as planned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This chapter contains homophobic language. Reader discretion is advised.

_Roger's POV_

Contract day! Today I would start my new life, discover my true self and—Screw all those lies, I was totally fucked. I wasn't sure what to expect, but it wasn't anything good that was for sure. Dominique and I had instructions to meet in the neighborhood transportation center early that morning. She was my assigned soulmate, and I liked her a lot, but honestly, I wasn't in love with her as most people were with their soulmates. More importantly, I didn't want to settle down. Domesticated life with a wife and kids just didn't suit me as of now. Don't judge! I know Brian and Freddie tell you all their secrets, so you should show me the same respect. Well it doesn't matter what you think anyway. Dom and I would have to be wed by the end of the week, and she'd have to be pregnant by the end of the year. Rules are dumb, but there are only certain ones I can get away with breaking. I learned early on that in order to survive under the New Order, I'd have to pick and choose my battles.

A particularly cheery woman stepped in front of the congregation. I recognized her as our neighborhood's party representative. She was always so insanely happy that it drove me nuts. Her extreme enthusiasm only made me think that her contract forced her to have a partial brain lobotomy.

"Oh, I'm so so so excited to be here!" She proclaimed in a sing song voice, beaming so wide her face reddened, "It is wonderful to see all of you here. I know Neighborhood 1 is going to churn out fantastic citizens who serve the party well and make us all so very very proud! Even if you are assigned to a different neighborhood, you will still..."

I zoned her out at that point. I didn't give a damn what lies she was spewing. My fingers were subtly laced with Dom's (technically holding hands before marriage was illegal), and I felt her clinging to mine just a little bit tighter than normal. She must've been terrified as well, but we hadn't had much discussion about our contracts and what was bound to happen to us today. Then I noticed people stepping out of the crowd to form a separate line. Dom nudged me to move, but I wasn't sure what we were supposed to be doing. Maybe I should've listened to overly optimistic party representative.

"Rog, you have to go." Dominique whispered, "We'll exchange our rings after we get our contracts."

The perky party representative now stepped in front of our separated group. Dom anxiously gestured for me to split up and join the other group as I struggled to figure out what was happening. "Okay, ladies, you will meet up with your spouses later." That was when I realized that everyone in line with me was female. One glance over at the other line signaled that they were all men. Obviously, I needed to be in that line not this one. It surprised me that nobody seemed to notice my misplacement with the exception of Dom of course. I had always been told I looked girly, but this event seemed to confirm it.

"See you later, babe." I whispered to Dom, letting go of her hand. As casually as I could, I joined the group of men preparing to receive their contracts. I made my way toward the back of the line, thankful that I went unnoticed once again. This group was being addressed by the bubbly party representative's male counterpart. He was also wearing an unnaturally large grin and was speaking in on overly high-spirited tone.

"In just a few short moments, the buses will arrive to take you boys to the capital where you will be escorted to the palace. Now since Neighborhood 1 is the only neighborhood given access to vehicles..." This announcement was met by a series of gasps and shocked whispers among the crowd. I would've been just as stunned if it hadn't been for Brian informing me of this disturbing fact earlier.

"...The buses will also be stopping throughout several neighborhoods to pick the other lucky contract receivers. So you will be getting a tour of other neighborhoods while on the way to the capital. Who knows, you may just look out the window and fall in love with the neighborhood that your contract assigns you to."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. A neighborhood without cars was not one worth living in. I anticipated the shock from my bracelet for allowing such a rebellious thought to cross my mind, but it never came. Maybe that was a good sign. I prayed that my "true self" was meant to stay in Neighborhood 1 where I could still drive. As I stepped onto the bus, I gave a nod to the driver. "What are the odds that I get your job?" I asked him rhetorically. "Sit down!" he barked back angrily. Man, what was his problem! He had the best job available and he was such a grouch.

I chose an open seat and watched in amusement as everyone avoided sitting down next to me. My reputation spoke wonders. Anyone I associated with usually ended up in a rebel camp. I was likely one infraction away from earning myself a spot on the watchlist, so people knew better than to befriend me. It only figured that my only real friend (besides Dom of course) was a notorious watchlist rebel. I wondered how Brian would hold up without me. Tim leaving was a hard blow, but he took it pretty well all things considered.

"Listen up!" The grumpy bus driver shouted as he closed the door, "We're stopping in Neighborhood 9 and Neighborhood 10 before we head out to the capital."

The atmosphere in the bus drastically changed with the mention of Neighborhood 9. Before, everyone had been nervously chatting amongst themselves. Now you could hear a pin drop, it was so dead silent. You could sense the fear behind everyone's eyes as they stiffened in their seats. Neighborhood 9 was the strictest of all the neighborhoods and churned out the most glorified officers and party members. They had virtually no freedoms and the highest rate of residents being sent to rebel camps or placed on the watchlist. As for Neighborhood 10, I didn't know much about them aside from the fact that they were situated on the edge of the border, so they had easy access to our secret music rebel lounge. Brian said that aside from me and Tim, most of the people he met in our little club were from Neighborhood 10.

"If any of you try to leave this bus before we arrive at the capital, I will report you, and you will receive the shock of your life and be sent to a rebel camp. Do you understand?" The bus driver growled. When he was met with our silent blank stares he repeated, "Do you understand?"

"Yessir!" We all said in unison, albeit a little shaky.

The bus rolled out of the transportation center and entered the darkened tunnel. You could pick out the rebels based on the reactions. Those who had never snuck down here were eager to peek their heads out the window and take in the new site. The rest of us were quite familiar with the dingy underground pathway for whatever reason. It was dark, desolate and dirty—littered with trash and crumpled pieces of paper. I recognized them as the notorious letters Brian would go on and on about. We emerged on the other end of the tunnel in a neighborhood identical to the rest. Looking out the window, I spotted nothing too out of the ordinary, just plain residential homes surrounding the artificial turf. You couldn't tell the houses apart if your life depended on it. One thing I did notice was the lack of variety in the gardens situated in the yard of each house. Usually that was the one thing we were allowed to express ourselves with. Even though the flowers were fake, we could choose from a vast array of colors, shapes and sizes. Here, each garden contained the same amount of bleak grey flowers with no variation all placed in the exact same positions as they were in other gardens. Then realization dawned upon me: This must be none other than Neighborhood 9. The bus came to a stop at their neighborhood transportation center, which was similar to our industrial austere building resembling that of a warehouse. The only difference was the lack of trucks parked outside, but that was something I was told to expect both from Brian and the annoying party representative.

Curiously, I glanced out the window at the line of boys waiting to board our bus. All of them were clean shaven with a short bowl cut hairstyle. Their expressions were all deadpanned. In a chilling manner, they marched in unison onto the bus. "Robots." I muttered to myself. Once on the bus, however, I started to see some individuality. Most stared off with an indifferent glaze, but others glared at their fellow passengers with either malice or curiosity.

"You are all disgusting rebels who do not even deserve the honor of receiving a contract!" One of them shouted.

The bus driver smirked. "You have my permission to taunt and attack whomever you believe is a rebel."

"Then they shall be reported." One of the boys hissed in a sinister tone.

Thankfully, none of them took the empty seat next to me. As the bus jolted forward, I found myself letting out a sigh of relief that I wasn't aware I had been holding in. The minute we were back in the tunnel and away from that dreadful neighborhood, I felt myself relaxing. Only I let my guard down a bit too soon because someone yanked my hair from behind. I turned and met the murderous eyes of a Neighborhood 9 boy.

"Why do you have hair this long, Goldilocks?" he teased.

"I don't know. Why do you have a face that stupid?" I shot back.

"This is why the New Order is so important. No one's face can be any more or less stupid as you like to put it if every face is exactly the same." The boy next to him explained in the most monotone voice I had ever heard.

"We also have unity rules so no one ends up looking like a faggot with your long blonde locks, Goldilocks." The first boy said. I was straight, and the word still stung because it was so nasty. Something inside me snapped. Leaning over the seat, I boldly situated myself directly in the boy's face. "Use that word again and we're going to have serious problems." I growled. The bus's abrupt halt launched me back into my seat, and I was met with laughter from the insulter and his buddies. Oh, they were so dead! However, before I could pounce at that piece of shit and his snickering cronies, more boys started filing onto the bus. I assumed we were in Neighborhood 10, but I didn't give a damn. All I cared about was making this son of a bitch bleed.

He smirked again like he did whenever he called me Goldilocks, but this time he was looking behind me. "Ah, speaking of faggots. It looks like Goldilocks here has a little gay friend." He said loud enough for everyone coming onto the bus to hear. I turned around to see Freddie making his way onto the bus. Oh hell no! Fucking with me was one thing, but Freddie was the most talented person I had ever met. There was no way I would let this Neighborhood 9 asshole get away with using such a vulgar term to describe the kind of person who only came around once in a lifetime if that. Unfortunately, Mr. Goldilocks as I deemed him, wasn't the only Neighborhood 9 bully on the bus. Someone shouted something hurtful about Freddie's makeup and tripped him. Of course Mr. Goldilocks applauded. "I hope you broke his oversized gay teeth!"

Freddie got up and rolled his eyes. "That was a nice try, darling, but believe me, I've heard worse. Hello, Roger, dear, you look absolutely pissed off this morning." He noted as he sat down next to me.

"Yeah. Aren't you?" I cried.

"Figures you two freaks know each other." Mr. Goldilocks hollered from behind us.

"I am going to kill you!" I shouted. I turned around and prepared to punch, but Freddie held me back. "He's not worth the effort. Just be quiet and he'll leave us alone."

Freddie had to keep restraining me as the jerk continued to kick the back of our seat and jeer at us. He probably said the word faggot so many times it nearly lost its horrible meaning. Eventually, though, as Freddie predicted, Mr. Goldilocks got bored and shut his mouth.

"You should be thanking me, darling. That man is twice your size. If you went up against him, he would have killed you." Freddie whispered.

"I'm tougher than I look. How the hell can you just sit back and take that verbal abuse?"

"Oh dear, I'm afraid when you're...well when you're like me...you grow accustomed to hearing hateful slurs. I can't begin to tell you how many times I've been called a freak or a fag." Freddie looked down at his lap as he admitted this.

"They wouldn't dare call you those awful names if they were to just hear you sing." I said, patting his back supportively.

Freddie shook his head. "If they ever heard me sing, they'd send me straight to a rebel camp."

"And that's why Brian created our little hideout," I whispered, "so we can all hear you sing."

"Shh! Roger, you need to keep it down. Even if you are whispering, we shouldn't be talking about this." Freddie hissed.

Shit! Hopefully, no one heard me. Freddie was right. I had to be more careful. One slip of the tongue, and I could get us all in big trouble. It was a miracle that I made it this far in life under the New Order without endangering myself.

Finally, the bus reached its ultimate destination. I peered out the window and was greeted with the image of a beautiful palace. Composed of glistening golden bricks, the colossal palace had a opulent vibe to it that was so starkly different from the simple neighborhood residents I was used to seeing every day. "Oh, it's magnificent!" Freddie exclaimed, waving his hands in the air dramatically.

We rose from our seats. Unfortunately, Mr. Goldilocks got up at the same time. He made sure to give Freddie a shove causing him to tumble back into me. We both landed on the seat as our assailant guffawed. Freddie finally got angry with the abuse. "Oh fuck off will you!" he shouted.

"Shut up! You shouldn't be allowed to open your mouth, let alone speak. Your fag teeth are just too damn ugly."

I didn't wait for Freddie to respond, I was simply too caught up in my own boiling rage. I got up and punched the man right in the mouth, making sure to do some damage to his teeth and get lots of blood oozing from his lips. "Now you're the one with ugly teeth, you piece of shit! And let me tell you something, Freddie is ten million times the man you'll ever be. There's a special place in hell for people like you."

"Oh, you just made a big mistake, Goldilocks." He said, wiping the blood from his mouth.

Freddie quickly dragged me off the bus and far away from Mr. Goldilocks before anything could escalate further. My bracelet was bright red, but there were no shocks. Instead the words:  _Infraction: Assault #10 Reported_  flashed across the screen.

"You've assaulted ten people? How were you not put on the watchlist?" Freddie wondered.

"It all goes on my record, but so far it hasn't caught up to me yet. As long as I don't kill anyone I'm sure I'll be fine. The party doesn't take violence too seriously anyway. They don't even shock you if you get into a fight. That punishment is reserved for creative thought.

"That's fucked up. OW!" Apparently Freddie got shocked just for making that comment. Man, he really couldn't catch a break today. He noticed my worrisome glances and assured me that he was alright.

"You know you didn't have to defend me like that back on the bus. I really appreciate it." he said.

"Of course. No one should ever say those awful things to anyone, especially not you, Freddie. You shouldn't have to put up with that shit. If anyone messes with you again, come find me. Us rebels have to stick together, you know."

"Oh please, I'm not that vulnerable. I don't need a bodyguard. I took boxing lessons when I was younger. If I had to, I could defend myself."

Much to our dismay, we were ushered into the palace through the back entrance, so we weren't exposed to any luxurious lobbies or anything extravagant. Freddie appeared more disappointed than me when we arrived in a dull looking waiting room. It was similar to the one you would find in a doctor's office only it was much larger to accommodate everyone.

"Well, I guess this is it, huh, Fred?" I sighed, leaning back into one of the uncomfortably stiff chairs they had provided for us. All morning I had been denying the fact that I'd soon be making a life altering decision.

"If we still have a shrivel of ourselves left in us after this, we'll meet tonight just like you suggested." I knew Freddie was being vague about the location of our meeting on purpose in case someone overheard. Obviously he meant our musical hideaway.

"We can start auditioning bassists and get the band together." I made sure to whisper.

"If only..." Freddie sighed, his dark eyes lost deep in some sort of grand idea that could only be a fantasy in this world. He held his breath waiting for the shocks to subside.

Without warning, my bracelet went out of control with extreme shocks. Why? Because the bane of my existence suddenly burst through the double doors of the waiting room. Daring to think negatively of him like I did was treacherous.

"Gentlemen, please stand for his royal highness Prince Paul Prenter of Rhye!" The man standing next to him shouted as everyone around me got up on their feet. Hesitantly I followed because I had no other choice, but if it were up to me I'd kick the prince right in the balls. As you can tell, I don't particularly care for Paul. To me, he represented everything I hated about the party and the New Order. Since the New Order's passing, he had become the party's spokesperson, appearing at special events and assigning these contracts on a weekly basis. The Queen was rarely ever seen in public. Her son, Paul, had taken her place in the spotlight, so I associated his dumb mustached face with her oppressive regime.

"Thank you." Paul said, "You may be seated now. Let us begin."

Slowly but surely, Paul began calling names one by one. They would follow him into the mysterious room and return about ten to twenty minutes later. Watching people's reaction walking out of that room did not do anything to calm my nerves. Nearly everyone would come out pale and shaky with tears in their eyes. From what I saw, Paul would afterwards ask them, "Do you want to go straight to surgery or exchange rings with your soulmate?" Occasionally, he would tell someone, "Remember you have 24 hours to sign the contract or else you will be sent to a rebel camp. You may exchange rings with your soulmate but you cannot be wed until you sign your contract." I tried to get a better look at the people receiving this response. Obviously it meant that they had received a contract so terrifying they were considering a refusal. Contract rejection was rare, but it happened, as Brian had pointed out to Tim.

"Roger Taylor!" Paul called making my heart stop dead in my chest. I wasn't ready for this. I didn't want my contract. I shut my eyes, willing myself to wake up from the nightmare as Paul called my name again, this time rather loudly.

"You'll get through this, Roger." Freddie whispered, "We both will, darling. I promise we'll be alright."

"Okay." I whispered, rising from my seat to join Paul in the center of the room.

"Learn to come when you're called. It's very disrespectful to disobey your Prince." Paul spat as he opened the door to the unknown room.

I took one last fleeting glance at the waiting room. Freddie flashed me a concerned but nonetheless reassuring smile with his teeth on full display. "Don't keep me waiting!" Paul shouted impatiently. I stepped inside and Paul slammed the door shut behind me. The room was very cramped with nothing but a desk and two chairs. When Paul sat down across from me and turned on the overhead lamp, I felt like I was being interrogated. He forcefully grabbed my arm and scanned my bracelet. "You have a total of 25 infractions, ten of them being assaults. How did you manage to stay off the watchlist? Let's see here...your rebellious thoughts charted significantly higher than average and your creative thoughts seem to be alarming high as well."

"I made it this far without getting caught." I blurted.

"You are so far gone, Roger," Paul groaned, shaking his head as if I disgusted him, "but as bad as it seems, not all hope is lost for you. Your contract will work to mold you into the model citizen you should be. We just need to perform a small test to get the most accurate results so your contract reflects your true self."

"Test?" My heart pounded against my chest as I tried to recall what Brian had told Tim about the test performed before the contract. They were going to take my bracelet off, but it was a trap. I should just sit perfectly still and do nothing.

"I'm going to take your bracelet off," Paul confirmed, as he retrieved a syringe needle from the drawer attached to the desk, "then I'm going to give you this shot."

I usually wasn't afraid of anything, but right now I wanted to whimper like a pathetic little coward. Shots never really bothered me, but there was something about this needle that seemed bigger and more sinister than normal.

"It will induce hallucinations of your deepest dreams and desires. You may interact with everything around you however you please because it will all seem real to you."

"W-why are you doing this?" I tried to keep the fear out my voice.

"To collect some final data for your contract."

' _To determine what to take away from me.'_  I warned myself, ' _Brian's right. It is a trap. They want to see me be creative, so they'll be able to drain my talent.'_

However, as soon as Paul punched in a special code on my bracelet allowing him to unfasten it, I felt so free. I couldn't remember the last time I wasn't restrained by those damn shocks and I never imagined that I'd finally be rid of them. I was so overwhelmed with gratitude that the pain of Paul delving the needle into the flesh of my arm didn't bother me. I could do whatever the hell I wanted without any repercussions. Anything was possible!

"This is heaven!" I giggled to myself as my vision blurred. "Sweet dreams." Paul's voice faded away into nothingness. Soon I was no longer confined to the claustrophobic room with Paul. Instead, I was outside in open air with the bright sun shining down on me—that's right the sun, the real sun in the smack center of the crystal blue sky! Somewhere in the distance, I could hear real birds chirping the sweetest song imaginable. One look down told me that my tan jumpsuit had been replaced with a comfortable sweatshirt and blue jeans. It matched something I would typically wear before the uniform had been established. I put my hands in my pockets, missing the feeling of having a place to store my stuff. They should really cut us some slack and add pockets to the jumpsuits.

My fingers grasped on a light metal object. I fished it out uncovering none other than a car key, and that was when I noticed the shiny red convertible sports car parked on the grass. There was no way it had been there before. It definitely would have caught my attention. I knew that none of this was real, and I remembered Brian's warning, but I couldn't resist myself. Would one simple test drive really hurt? Unable to contain my grin, I clicked open the convertible, watching with glee as the sleek doors rose upward. "Holy shit!" I whispered to myself as I sat in the driver's seat breathing in the intoxicating new car scent. I clicked the key in the ignition and took pleasure in the sound of the rumbling engine reveling in the vrrroooms for a few minutes before finally shifting into drive. "Let's go baby!" I shouted, slamming down on the accelerator. From there, I was zooming on the open road, speeding like a daredevil without a care in the world. I could hear nothing but the roaring of the wind tousling my hair, and of course the heavenly sound of the car's engine. Just as I reached the car's full speed capacity, the scene in front of me suddenly shifted.

"Are you kidding me!" I shouted as I realized that I wasn't in a car anymore. I took in my new surroundings, expecting to be disappointed, but I wasn't. I was on a stage in front of a crowd of thousand of screaming fans.

"Well, it's about time you showed up, darling." Someone said from behind me. I turned around to see Freddie sitting behind a drum set. He was wearing a flashing skintight leotard with full confidence. Brian, also in a sweatshirt and jeans, was next to Freddie with a guitar slung across his chest. On Freddie's other side was another guitarist wearing a t-shirt with shorts. Although we hadn't met, I somehow recognized him as our bassist and my good friend, John, or Deaky as we called him. He waved shyly at me and I smiled back.

"This show has been an absolutely disaster without you, Roger." Freddie said, "I've been trying to do drums and sing at the same time, which means that Deaky had to play piano for me while also keeping up with his bass. Our entire rhythm was thrown off."

I looked back out at the screaming audience. "The fans don't seem too upset."

"That's because you're here now." Brian said.

"Now, I think we owe it to our fans to play our best song." Freddie said, "Wouldn't you agree?"

"For sure." Brian said smiling at me. "Of course." Deaky said giving a thumbs up in my direction.

"What do you say, Roger?" Freddie said, adjusting the mic behind the drums for me. He returned to the piano, but he didn't set up his mic. Wait a minute. "Fred, aren't you singing?"

"It's your song, dear." Freddie laughed, "Remember what I told you when you first showed me the lyrics? I said that the song was so amazing that not even I, the great Freddie Mercury, could do it justice. It has to be you, Roger."

"That doesn't sound like something you'd say to me." I said skeptically. Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? I couldn't even tell anymore.

"Well, he is leaving out the part where he begged you to put his song on the B-track, even going as far as to lock himself in the cupboard." Brian said.

"That's our Freddie." Deaky laughed, "Such a drama queen!"

"Okay that  _really_ doesn't sound right." I said.

"Roger, just play the damn song already. You know you're dying to do it." Freddie insisted.

And somehow I knew the song I had yet to write. The crowd went wild for my performance of I'm in Love with my Car, making me believe that it really was our most popular song. In that moment, it all felt real. I knew I was exactly where I was meant to be—rocking it out with my three best friends! I'd do just about anything to stay here forever.

I blinked open my eyes, and stifled back tears when I discovered that I was back in the stuffy room with Paul Death on Two Legs Prenter as my only company. At least I had a small taste of the life of rockstar. It was fun while it lasted.

"Interesting." Paul mused staring down at my bracelet in his hands, "It says your bandmates aren't figments of your imagination. They're real people that were added to your subconscious realm."

"I wouldn't know. I've never seen any of them before." I lied. There was no way I'd give Paul any information about my friends. He'd have to torture the details out of me.

"Well whoever they are, you share a strong connection to them. Are you sure you don't know them? Not even that pretty Persian boy—Freddie, I believe you called him." His lips twitched upwards in a strange looking smile as he said Freddie's name.

"I don't know any of them."

Something darkened in Paul's eyes, and I got the feeling that he knew I wasn't telling the truth. "Right then." he said, "Give me your wrist. It's time you got your bracelet back. Your contract should be loaded onto it."

I gulped as I held my shaky wrist out for Paul to grasp. He fastened the bracelet back on, tightening it against my skin to the point that my blood circulation was cut off. I loosened it before it locked in place. Paul smacked my wrist in response but said nothing. I glanced down at the menu on the bracelet, seeing the newly uploaded file flashing. This was it; everything I had been dreading for years on end. I took a deep breath and tapped open the file. The contract was reflected in a hologram form in front of my eyes making it easier to read than the version featured on the small bracelet screen.

"Come on cars!" I said, my eyes skipping over the top clauses and going immediately to neighborhood and job assignment.

You will be living with your soulmate in Neighborhood 3.

You will work as a dentist and oral surgeon in the Neighborhood 3 medical center.

"No!" I shouted. I could live with being a dentist even though it wasn't what I expected, but Neighborhood 3 was what hit me hard.

"Problem?" Paul asked.

"Please tell me Neighborhood 3 has cars."

"I'm afraid only Neighborhood 1 has access to vehicles, but you shouldn't be in need of any vehicular services in your new life."

"So I'll just travel everywhere by bike?" I cried.

"Precisely. See, you're catching on. This was meant to be."

I scrolled down to the physical and surgical clauses. I breathed out a sigh of relief when there was only one mandate listed under the physical changes required.

You will cut your hair to a length at the very least just below your ears. You must have your hair cut within 24 hours of signing this contract. Curiously, I tapped for an explanation along with a picture of what I would look like with short hair. An image of my proposed new look popped up. I sill looked just as handsome, and even though my hair was cut short, it retained its familiar blonde, messy texture. ' _Long hair looks unprofessional, especially on men.'_  Was the official party explanation.

"Makes you look less like a girl. I think you'll like it." Paul remarked.

"Why thank you." I replied sarcastically.

I eyed the surgical clause and my entire mind went numb. My worst nightmare was coming true, and there was nothing I could do about it. Denial seeped through me as I tried to process what I was reading. The words in front of me didn't seem real. I read them over and over, and their interpretation seemed lost regardless of how many times I repeated the action. They couldn't make me do this. There was no way.

You will undergo neurological surgery to slow down your rhythmic sense. Side effects will include: Complete loss of limb functions and slurred speech. You must have your surgery completed within 24 hours of signing this contract.

"Problem?" Paul asked again.

"What the fuck?" I lashed out, nearly striking him, but receiving a shock so intense it pushed me back into my seat.

"If you need an explanation, tap it and you'll receive the party's reasoning." Paul stated calmly.

I tapped the words on the hologram, hoping that there had been some mistake. No such luck. The party's logic was even more tragic than what they were forcing me to do.  _'Your rhythmic timing is what fuels your musical prowess, and this makes you superior to others. Excelling over others in any area of expertise is_ _not_ _allowed under the New Order. Your reliance on party issued prosthetics and other tools to perform basic tasks will reinforce your party loyalty and quell your rebellious spirit.'_

"Party issued prosthetics?" I returned back to the mandate and noticed the fine print below it. In my shock, I must've glossed over it.

' _The party will assign you prosthetic gloves to be used in place of your disabled hands. They are specifically designed to help you with your assigned job and basic tasks such as eating and bathing. No other motions will be possible. You will also be assigned an electric wheelchair...'_

I felt the tears prickling out of my eyes, and decided not to hold back. They rolled down my cheeks cascading like a waterfall.

"You can sign right there by sliding your finger across the hologram." Paul instructed.

"I-I'll be sent to a rebel camp if I...don't agree to this?" I choked.

"That is correct. Most people sign it now, but you have 24 hours to make your final decision."

"I'm not signing it." I whispered.

"Very well." Paul casually stood up and opened the door. He gestured for me to follow him out. I tried to calm myself, but I couldn't. I was trembling so hard that I could barely walk. The world was a blur.

"You can exchange your rings with your soulmate, but you cannot be wed until you sign your contract. You have 24 hours before—"

"—I'm not signing that damn thing!" I shouted, "Not now, not in 24 hours, not ever!"

"Are you sure?" Paul asked.

"Positive."

"If that is your choice, then you will be sent to a rebel camp immediately. So I am going to ask you again. Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

My bracelet suddenly turned red, and I received the worst shocks I had ever experienced. I blacked out before I could comprehend what I had just agreed to (or in this case not agreed to).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! This chapter was longer than expected, and it ends on yet another cliffhanger. Tee hee! The next chapter will be posted soon. It will be in Freddie's POV.


	5. Don't Stop Me Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie notices that Paul treats him very differently than the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I did not expect this story to get well over 100 hits within the first 24 hours. Thank you everyone!!! Also congrats to Rami Malek and the cast and crew of Bohemian Rhapsody for winning 4/5 Oscars!!!

_Freddie's POV_

Back so soon, darlings? I can't say I'm feeling any better than I was the last time we met, but I'm capable of continuing the story if that's what you wish. Things were not going particularly well for me, and they only seemed to worsen when Roger left with Paul. Keeping Roger calm was a good distraction for me, but now that he was gone, I was on the verge of a panic attack. I stared up at the ceiling and counted the tiles.  _1,2,3, 4...Fuck! I'm never going to sing again!_ Alright that definitely didn't help. What else could I do to prevent my mind from venturing into the darkest possibilities?

"I'm not signing that damn thing!" I barely recognized Roger's voice. Even though he was shouting, it was much softer and meeker than usual. He sounded so damn traumatized. I looked up to see him standing in front of the door with Paul and the site nearly split my fragile heart in half. The life behind Roger's blue eyes was nonexistent as if he were just an empty shell. All that was left was fear; the poor thing appeared absolutely petrified.

"What the hell do they want you to do, Rog?" I cried, but he didn't hear me too lost in his own dark world.

"If that is your choice, then you will be sent to a rebel camp immediately." Paul explained, "So I am going to ask you again. Are you sure?"

Shit! Was his contract seriously this grisly that he was considering the dire option of being imprisoned? Should I try to stop him from making this practically suicidal move?

"Yes." Roger's response was barely above a whisper. In a flash, he collapsed onto the ground, spasming as his bracelet shocked him to the point of unconsciousness.

"No!" I gasped, running to my friend before anyone could stop me. "Roger, what did you do?" A team of officers violently pushed me out of the way to get to Roger. They scooped him up off the ground and carried him away. Chasing after them, I was suddenly yanked backwards by a firm grasp on my shoulder. "And it looks like for the first time we have someone volunteering to receive his contract." Paul announced. He let go of my shoulder and took long strides towards me until he was close enough to make my skin crawl.

"W-why didn't you give him 24 hours like the rest of them?" I stammered.

"Don't you worry about that pathetic rebel." Paul said reaching out to brush the tears spilling down my cheeks. "This moment is all about you, honey." In the back of my mind, I questioned why he was using such a soft tone around me while he was short and callous with everyone else, but right now I needed some comfort. "Come. I'm going to help you find your true self and you'll be better for it. I promise nothing in this room will hurt you." I knew better than to believe a word he said, but when he gave me a sweet consoling hug, I nearly melted inside. "Shh. It'll be alright, my little Persian." Paul hushed as gently as he would when speaking to a newborn baby. "The contract is a good thing." He whispered, guiding me into the small room. Blindly, I followed. I composed myself as Paul gestured for me to sit next to him at the desk. There was nothing else in the room besides the desk. Claustrophobia had never been an issue for me, but now it felt like the walls were closing in around me and the prince. "Please have a seat." Paul requested.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I asked, gaining back some of my wit.

"Because I care."

"If you cared, you'd just let me be." I sighed, finally sitting down next to him.

"I can't just let you be, not knowing when there's a way to turn you into something better than you could possibly imagine. I'm here to help you find the best version of yourself. Like I said, the contract is a good thing. Don't let the rebels tell you otherwise."

"What if I think I'm already the best version of myself?" I challenged.

"You're wrong." Paul said with pure conviction.

"How can you say that? You don't know me."

"That's what you think." He reached out to brush my hair away from my face. I flinched at the sudden touch. There was no way Paul had this much physical contacts with the others. My stomach lurched at the implications of this special treatment. As Paul removed his hand away from my hair, I noticed that his bracelet was flashing yellow. That was so strange. I had never seen yellow before. Red of course meant punishment as you know, and the only two colors I knew of were pink and blue. Pink had a more positive association as it the soulmate confirmation color. My bracelet would turn pink whenever I was around or thought about Mary (hers would have a matching pink hue whenever she was with me). Blue signified...Well, that's rather personal. I know I've told you darlings just about everything, and I trust you, I really do. I promise I'll tell you what blue means eventually, but there's a time and place. Anyway, Paul's bracelet omitting a yellow glow was rather peculiar. I strained my memory banks in search of any instances where I had seen yellow before. Meanwhile, Paul scanned my bracelet. "Hmm. You are special. Very special indeed." he mused. Remembering that he was the prince and the face behind the New Order, I waited for the inevitable chastise. ' _Uniqueness is bad. If you're special, then you're better than others. That is not allowed. Everyone has to be exactly the same. That leads to a fair and happy society.'_

"So, you want to be called Freddie and not Farrokh?" Paul remarked out of nowhere, "I think the name does suit you better."

Not expecting to hear this, I grinned (making sure to keep my mouth shut of course). "Thank you, dear. I've been telling that to my father for years, but he just won't listen."

"Your name is one of the negotiable sections your contract, so soon you'll have it legally changed to Freddie. Your father will have no choice but to listen to you and address you as the name you chose for yourself."

Hearing that news made me so excited I nearly forgot that I'd likely be moving to a new neighborhood and never see my parents again. Although starting anew didn't seem as scary as it did earlier. There was something about Paul that made me feel less anxious.

"Freddie, can you tell me about your soulmate. It says her name is Mary Austin. Is that right?" Paul inquired. He didn't sound like he was gathering information for party records. I actually believed he was striking conversation. I gladly answered him. "Mary is perfect, absolutely perfect for me. The soulmate system did us well. We were made for each other."

"That's odd. I'm only asking about her because I believe there was an error in your pairing."

"An error? That can't be! She's the love of my life." I did love Mary with all of my heart, but I feared Paul was right. Sometimes my raw desires...how should I put this...required certain things Mary could not provide. Don't get me wrong, that doesn't mean I loved her any less. It just made being with her a bit more complicated, at least on the physical level. Oh dear, darlings, you really are good at getting me to spill my inner most secrets and pleasures, aren't you!

"I'm sure it's nothing." Paul said with a shrug, "Like you said the soulmate system did you well. It never fails. You wouldn't know any reason why it would fail, right?"

"I love Mary." I repeated and again it wasn't a lie. However, I couldn't deny that if I fully committed to her I'd be repressing a deep part of myself longing to break free. Damn this horrible confliction! I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

"I'm sure you do love her." Paul said, his prior benevolent tone slightly undermined with a sharp bitterness behind his words. Again, I was drawn to his bracelet that was still flashing yellow. What could that mean? Did Paul know that I was...different? Nonsense. If he knew the truth, he would have berated me and threatened to send me to a rebel camp if I refused to keep my concealed sexual aspirations in check.

Paul cleared his throat as he moved his grip to tighten around my wrist. "There's a last minute test we need to perform in order to secure your contract's accuracy. If I may, I'm going to remove your bracelet. Then, I'm going to give you a shot. It will induce hallucinations of your deepest dreams and desires. You may interact with everything around you however you please because it will all seem real to you."

"Okay." I prompted, hearing nothing beyond the words "remove your bracelet". Ever since they strapped the metal shocker and tracker around me five years ago when my family moved here, I'd been yearning to tear it off. Oh, the pure bliss I had been longing for was finally delivered as Paul liberated my hand from the cruel shackle. The bracelet's straps were released at long last, and I couldn't contain my joy. "Free at last!" I exclaimed and belted the highest note I could reach. I could sing now—no restraints. " _I feel aliiivveee...and the woorrld I'll turn it inside out, yeah. And floating around in ecstasy. So don't stop me now!"_ I crooned.

"Quite the pair of pipes you've got there, Freddie." Paul interrupted.

Oh shit! Did I just sing at the top of my lungs in front of the fucking prince of all people. What the hell was I thinking? I was so screwed. My song just earned me a one-way ticket to a rebel camp.

"I won't do it again." I apologized, refusing to meet his dark eyes.

"This should be fun to watch." Paul said, not giving me a warning before he plunged a syringe deep into the skin of my arm. The pain was sudden, but quick. Soon, I started to feel lightheaded and giggly instead. I moved my hand in front of my eyes, watching it blur before me. It made me laugh. What was I worried about again? My vision was beginning to fade into a dizzying darkness. Before everything completely dimmed, I saw what looked like Paul's figure leaning in towards me. His voice sounded crackly and distorted. I could barely make it out. "Soon...one day...you'll be mine." I wasn't sure what I was feeling because my body went numb, but there was pressure on my lips. If I didn't know any better I'd say that Paul was kissing me. In my high almost unconscious state, I gave in and attempted to kiss back. It had always been my deepest desire to press my lips against another man's. This was nice, not as soft as Mary, but different. I was too dazed to come to terms with how to describe the experience.

I opened my eyes. Paul was no longer with me, and I wasn't in that dreadful tiny room anymore. I found myself up on a stage in front of thousands of adoring fans screaming my name. I squinted in an attempt to read some of the signs they were holding up for me. ' _Ready Freddie!' 'We Heart Mercury!' 'Freddie is our King!'_ They loved me, and I would do anything to please them by performing. Singing was my greatest pleasure, and I knew that this stage would always be my home.

"Looks like I finally made it." I spoke into the broken microphone that had suddenly appeared in my hands, "I'm a true star and there's nothing anyone can do to stop me! So let's all sing so loud that we blow a hole in the artificial sky. Repeat after me, darlings. Ready?"

"Ready Freddie!" The entire crowd shouted in unison.

"Ay-oh!" I belted. I paused and sure enough they mimicked me. I was in complete control and loving every second of our time together. I sang some crazy vocal improvisations completely mesmerizing the crowd earning their imitation in return.

"Our very own Freddie Mercury, ladies and gentlemen!" I turned to see that I wasn't alone on stage, and that just made me even happier. I loved the spotlight, but I hated being alone even more than having to share the attention. Brian, Roger and Deaky (I hadn't met him yet but somehow I knew he was my adorable bassist friend and an essential part of the band) were all standing alongside me. None of them were in those awful jumpsuits. Instead they sported casual clothing that had been commonplace in my homeland. Even though it was delightful to see something other than the jumpsuits, their apparel was far too ordinary for my taste. If it were up to me I'd wear...Wait a minute. I glanced down and sure enough I was dressed to perfection in a shimmering skin tight leotard cut low enough to reveal my hairy chest. On my feet were the softest most comfortable ballet slippers one could imagine completely contrasting the stiff, clunky brown boots the party forced us to wear. "Alright!" I shouted feeling completely at peace. "Alright!" The audience echoed making me laugh.

"You are lovely, my darlings, each and every one of you. Thank you for spending the night with rocking with us! Now let's get really this party started!" I attached the broken microphone to the piano and began to play and sing the same song from earlier. This time, my request was granted because when I belted " _don't stop me now!_ " no one dared to put an end to the fun. I ripped the mic off the piano and pranced around the stage as I continued to sing and dance. The rest of the band kept up with my energy and the whole atmosphere was just a magical bliss.  _"I don't want to stop at aaall!"_  I sang.

As I returned to the piano to slow it down with some final las and das, I spotted a particularly handsome man gazing up at me from the front row. There was nothing but pure love and admiration in his soft brown eyes. I returned the feelings. He was a total stranger, but somehow I knew that I loved this sweet mustached man with all my heart and soul. Once I finished singing my final notes, I reached down and pulled him up onto the stage, giving him a warm embrace which he eagerly returned. Being in his arms felt so perfect. "I love you, Jim Hutton." I whispered in his ear as I leaned in and gave him a tender kiss on his lips. "I love you, too, Freddie Mercury." He replied with a shy grin.

I opened my eyes in confusion. What the hell just happened? My sparkly leotard was replaced by the tan jumpsuit, and my feet were no longer blessed with those lovely ballet slippers. More importantly, I was back in the confined space with Paul. His brows were pushed downward matching the sharp upside-down curl of his snakelike lips. Gone was his kind tone from earlier. "Who the hell is Jim Hutton?" He snapped so harshly I nearly flinched.

"I wish I knew." It was an honest answer. The feelings rushing through me for that mystery boy in my fantasy were very different than what I felt towards Mary. Mary would always be my best friend and the love of my life, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized I was kissing her out of obligation. Of course it was pleasurable and our love making was passionate, but I'd be more infatuated if I were with a man. Fuck! I'm gay. I've known it for a long time as you probably could have guessed, but coming to terms with it is something else entirely. Suddenly I recalled my kiss with Paul if you could call that bizarre experience a kiss. Was I just high from the hallucinogens in the shot? I couldn't have imagined that pressure against my lips before slipping away. Then again, why would the Prince of Rhye kiss me? Paul of all people should abide by the soulmate rules.

"You cannot lie to me Freddie. Your bracelet is reporting to me that Jim is indeed a real person added to your subconscious realm just like your bandmates." Paul shouted, his hands balling into fists.

"He might be real, but that doesn't mean I know him. Same goes for the band." That was a direct lie, but I wanted to protect my friends.

"Why are you covering for them?" he demanded, "It's not like they give a damn about you. Roger told me all about you and your rebellious tendencies. He sold you out. You should do the same. It's only fair."

I didn't know who to believe. Roger was my friend. He wouldn't tell Paul about me. Not after he defended me against those Neighborhood 9 homophobes. Then I remembered how freaked Roger had been before voluntarily being sent to a rebel camp. Who knows what kind of torturous things Paul did to him to get that information. Well it would take a hell of a lot more to make me crack.

"I don't know any of them. That's the honest truth."

"Rebels can't hide forever you know." Paul said, grabbing my arm to refasten the bracelet, "Your contract is ready."

I gulped and opened the file. This was the moment that would change my life—most said for the better, but I knew that was a lie. The contract was transferred to a large hologram displayed before my eyes.

_Welcome citizen of Rhye and congratulations! The following contract will help you discover your true self. Your new life awaits you soon. Here are the parameters you must follow in order to live in our fair and happy society under the New Order of the Queen of Rhye. Underlined provisions are mandatory. All other provisions are mere suggestions and can be negotiable with your assigned party supervisor. Failure to adhere to any of the underlined provisions will result in your expulsion from society and imprisonment in a rebel camp..._

Of course nearly every provision was underlined. There was a lot to read, but I still started with the very first provision.  _You will hereby be known as Farrokh Bulsara._ Not underlined. Thank goodness.

"Can you bring in my party supervisor?" I requested, "You know I want to be called Freddie."

"Read the next provision." Paul replied with a wide beam.

Prince Paul Prenter of Rhye has been assigned as your party supervisor. Curiously, I tapped on the words for some clarification.  _A party supervisor is assigned to each citizen with their contract. From now on, you are to contact your party supervisor if you have any issues or questions with your contract, if you wish to report a rebel, or if you wish to turn yourself in as a rebel. Party supervisors are in charge of your general wellbeing and want to help you become your true self. If you have any troubles, do not hesitate to ask for help._

"How do you have time to be my party supervisor? Don't you have royal duties to attend to?" I blurted.

"I told you I care. Every so often I volunteer myself to look after certain citizens who are in need of more guidance than normal."

"What kind of guidance?"

"We both know you're vulnerable, Freddie. You have questionable taste in friends. They all appear to be rebels or watchlist rebels to be frank. I'm here to help you steer clear of these horrible temptations. I want what's best for you, so I'll look out for you and see to it that you act in your own best interest."

Before I could reply, Paul typed in a code on my bracelet. The first provision of the contract was suddenly reworked.  _You will hereby be known as_ _Farrokh Bulsara_ ** _Freddie Mercury._** "I have it written in bold now, so the world will know." Paul said, giving my hand a gentle squeeze as he released my bracelet.

"Goodbye Farrokh. Hello Freddie." I exclaimed. Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as I was expecting. Paul did seem to know what I wanted in terms of my name and that was a big part of my identity.

You will be living with your soulmate in Neighborhood 5.

You will work as an architect in the Neighborhood 5 construction center.

"Architect, huh?" I mused. With the exception of this palace, all of the buildings and residences had the exact same simple designs with no original distinctions.

"One of the few jobs that allows for benign forms of creative thought. It's a high honor to receive that type of assignment. It means you have a talent that can be useful to others in a productive manner." Paul explained.

"Be honest with me, darling, how strict are they in Neighborhood 5. Do you think I can still get away with wearing makeup?"

"Oh, Freddie, when we're finished with you, you'll look so perfect that you won't need any makeup. You're already such a pretty little thing now, so I can't even begin to imagine how beautiful you'll look after your surg—"

I drowned out that last word in denial that it was even a possibility. I glazed over the rest of the basic provisions as slowly as possible as if to stall the inevitable. Of course, I eventually reached the clauses that I had been dreading: physical and surgical. All of the provisions except for one were underlined. I was afraid to read them, but I knew I had no choice.

You will cut your hair to a length at the very least just below your ears. You must have your hair cut within 24 hours of signing this contract. Short hair? Alright. There were much worse things they could ask me to do. Maybe I'd look decent with short hair. It'd be easier to manage. I had to keep in mind that I may no longer have access to the luxury of conditioners, detanglers, flat irons and such in Neighborhood 5.

 _You will grow a mustache._ This one wasn't underlined and didn't have a time restraint. I tapped on it to gain more insight on what the party was thinking.  _You find mustaches attractive._ I nearly toppled over in laughter. Was that it?

"So, you fancy men with mustaches, huh, Mercury?" Paul smirked, stroking his own facial hair.

"I wouldn't say that I fancy them." I said, probably coming off too defensive.

"Jim had a mustache." He reminded me that tinge of bitterness returning to the forefront of his voice.

Oh yes. My dear sweet Jim. Wait. I still had no clue who that man even was. That was just a fantasy elicited from my deepest desires. Regardless of what Paul told me Jim may not even be real.

The short hair and mustache were the only two provisions in the physical clause, but I knew I wasn't out of the woods. The physical clause only included the noninvasive things I could change about my appearance. The clause was followed by its malevolent and much more permanent counterpart known as the surgical clause. There were only three provisions, but all of them were underlined, and I knew they could do some serious damage to everything I held dear. I steadied my breathing to avoid a full scale panic attack and purposefully shut down my mind to better accept what I was about to read.

You will undergo a dental procedure to have your extra incisors removed and fix your overbite. The result will be perfectly straight and proper sized teeth. You must undergo this procedure within 24 hours of signing this contract.

Fuck! I should've seen that one coming. It looked like I'd be saying goodbye to Bucky alongside Farrokh. Freddie Mercury would no doubt be one handsome guy with short hair, a mustache, and best of all perfect teeth, but would he still be able to sing? That was all that mattered to me. The very next parameter put even more risk on the maintenance of my vocal capabilities.

You will undergo surgery to restructure your jaw to better fit your new teeth. The result will be a mouth reshaped to fit your resized and repositioned teeth. You must undergo this surgery immediately after your dental procedure.

Wiping the tears from my eyes, I clicked on the provisions for further explanation. The image that flashed in front of me immediately caught my attention. There I was with shortened hair and a dark mustache, but everything below my nose just looked wrong. Although my wide smile was more beautiful than it ever had been, something about its perfection was off-putting. For one thing my mouth was smaller than normal, and my teeth just seemed...almost too straight. I couldn't quite put a finger on what was bothering me about the image. Wasn't this what I had been longing to see in the mirror for as long I could remember? I could recall myself on so many occasions thinking "if only my teeth weren't so ugly". So why was I upset now? Oh, I couldn't deny it! My voice was more important to me than any of this bullshit. Simply seeing a generated image invoked a great sense of loss. It was impossible to even begin to fathom the true grieving stage I'd have to go through if my new mouth structure compromised my singing in any way.

I glanced over the party's explanation just for the hell of it. ' _You feel most self conscious about your teeth. You true self cannot have any features that make you feel uncomfortable or self conscious. The mouth and jaw's restructure will hold no effect over your new life because you will not have to use your mandible for anything essential aside from eating.'_ Anything essential aside from eating? What the hell did that mean? I tried to push aside the panicking thoughts rising through my mind, but they kept swirling all around me like dark storm clouds.

"I sure hope those are tears of joy!" Paul remarked, "Think about how good you'll look. You can finally laugh and smile without having to worry."

"Y-yeah," I sniffled, "but you don't understand. I—"

"Shh." He put a finger to my lips. "Read the last provision." he whispered, "Then you'll understand."

You will undergo oral surgery to have your vocal cords completely removed from your body...

"No!" I don't think I've ever sobbed that hard in my entire life. My worst fears were coming true, and it was so much more horrible than I possible could have anticipated. Paul just held me and rocked me as I bawled my bloody eyes out. "There, there," he cooed, "get it all out, my little Persian."

"Don't fucking touch me!" I snarled, now regaining a sense of my bearings. I flung myself out of his embrace. Nearly hyperventilating, I backed up against the wall. Paul broke the space between us, pinning me up against the wall.

"Now, Freddie!" he scolded, "Is that any way to address your party supervisor and more importantly your prince?"

"You, dear, have no right to tell me how I should address you!" I spat.

"I just want what's best for you, you know." Paul said gently.

"How the hell could you look me in the eye and say that with a straight face?" I screamed, "Thisisn't what's best for me! This is the worst possible thing you could ever do to anyone. If you do this, you will ruin my life!"

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "No need to be dramatic, honey. Why don't you keep reading the fine print and take a look at the party's explanation? It could be enlightening."

"How could some ridiculous excuse to mute me ever be enlightening?"

"Have you ever considered that your true self is meant to be silent?"

I couldn't breathe. That panic attack I had been striving so desperately to avert was hitting me like an oncoming truck. All I could do was gasp for air.

"Look at that, you're speechless! I think that says a lot." Paul proclaimed.

"F-fuck you!" I choked.

"Don't be like that. I only want to help."

"How is this helping? You're destroying me!"

"You'll be so beautiful and mysterious. You can do all your talking with those exotic eyes of yours. They speak wonders even when they're teary."

Talking! Shit! I wasn't even considering that I was so focused on the singing. I would never speak again, let alone sing. Suddenly I felt dizzy. The room around me spun. I heard Paul calling out my name, but nothing felt real. I soon collapsed.

***

Fingers trailed through my hair, and I moaned softly. Gentle lips pressed onto my forehead. "That's it, Freddie. Just breath." A soothing voice whispered, "Take your time."

I slowly blinked opened my eyes. Mary was sitting over my bedside with the sweetest smile. I sighed contentedly. "Darling, you wouldn't believe the horrifying nightmare I just had."

"Everything's okay." Mary assured me, planting a kiss on my cheek, "Prince Prenter was very understanding. He said your 24 hours to sign the contract could start as soon as you were awake, so I guess that's now. You want to sit up? As soon as you feel up to it, you can look over your contract again and sign it."

So it wasn't a nightmare. My false sense of security was flattened, but I was still somewhat dazed. "W-what happened?" I slurred, trying to recall what was real and what was a dream. It all felt very dreamlike at the moment.

"I'm not quite sure. Prince Prenter said you had a panic attack and fainted. You were just so excited that your heart raced out of control."

"No." I said bluntly, "I'm pretty sure that wasn't what happened. Try again, dear."

"What do you mean?" Mary laughed, "The prince wouldn't lie."

Still very disoriented, I sat up and took a look around. We were in my room, but the door was wide open (a rule for soulmate visitations before marriage). I focused on Mary. She looked exactly the same—just as beautiful and genuine. Seeing her untainted was almost too good to be true. Not even soulmates were allowed to speak about the provisions of their contracts, but I had to ask. "Did you sign yours?"

"Of course." Her cheeks flushed and she giggled like a little girl, "Can't you tell, Freddie?"

"Tell what?"

"Oh please, like you didn't notice. Shall I make it more obvious." She partially unzipped her jumpsuit stopping before she could completely unveil her enlarged breasts. My eyes doubled when I realized that they were nearly twice the size they had been before. Well that confirmed it. I was definitely gay if it took my so long to notice those beautiful.

"That's all they made you do?" I asked, not sure if I should feel relieved or not.

"Mmhmm." Mary said, zipping up her jumpsuit, "I was embarrassed to go through with it, but I think it worked out fine. I'm sure you like them a lot more than I do."

"They're wonderful, darling." I said, taking her hand in mine. I gasped when I saw the shiny gold ring on her finger and a matching one on mine. "When did we exchange rings? How come I don't remember?"

"It's more symbolic than anything else. Prince Prenter said we didn't need to have an official ceremony because you were taking too long to wake up. So, he just gave us our rings and sent us on our way. I hope you don't mind that I put yours on for you while you were asleep. We'll get married later in the week, and I promise you'll be awake for that, love."

"Of course I don't mind, my beautiful, Mary Mercury." I whispered, bringing her ringed hand to my lips.

"Mercury?" she questioned, "I thought I was going to be Mary Bulsara. Freddie, why didn't you tell me you were changing your last name along with your first name?"

"I made the decision last night on a whim, and I didn't get a chance to tell you. You can stay Mary Austin if you'd like, but I'm not staying Freddie Bulsara."

"Whatever makes you happy, Freddie. Mary Mercury does sound very nice."

"You are too good for me." I sighed. It was true. She deserved someone who could give his all to her. That was person wasn't me as much as I loved her.

Mary leaned in to kiss me, but she was interrupted by a honk coming from outside. The sound was foreign and made me jump.

"Cars honk." Mary giggled, "There's a car out there to take us to Neighborhood 5. Our families are downstairs to say goodbye."

"We shouldn't keep our driver waiting. I'll sign my contract when we get to our new home."

Did you just ask me if I'm stalling? Of course I'm fucking stalling, darlings! I don't even want to look at my contract again, and I can never imagine actually signing it. For now I'm just going to deny its nightmarish provisions for as long as I possibly can.

My parents were waiting for us downstairs alongside Mary's. A few of our friends had joined them as well. Saying goodbye was going to be just as difficult as coming to terms with the conditions of my contract. I wasn't too close with my parents despite living with them, but it was still extremely disheartening to accept that this was the last time I'd ever see them.

"I'm so happy for you, Freddie!" My mother squealed as she gave me a huge hug, "You and Mary are going to have such a good life together."

"I wish you could come with us." I sighed.

"I do too, but we belong here. This is the way it has to be."

"I love you so much, M—Oh, Mama, stop. I didn't mean to make you cry. Please."

"I love you too, Freddie. You and Mary will...it'll all work out." She sniffled.

"Mrs. Bulsara, come here." Mary went to comfort my mother as I said goodbye to my father. Why was Mary such an angel? It made me feel so much worse about my insincere commitment to her. 

"Farrokh, have you signed your contract yet?" My father asked. How typical of him. I shook my head. "Not yet, Papa. I haven't had the chance, but I have a 24 hour grace period."

"You need to sign it. Mary signed hers I'm told. You cannot let her down. You two need to rely on one another. Remember good thoughts, good words, good deeds."

' _Here we go.'_ I thought. "I know, Papa, I know." How could I not? He had only been repeating the phrase every single damn day since I was bloody born.

"We need to respect the rules of Rhye because the Queen was gracious enough to allow us to flee here. Show your gratitude, Farrokh. Whatever is written in that contract is meant to be in there and will shape you into the man we all want to see you become." He continued to lecture, "So promise me, Farrokh. You will make the right choice. Don't disappoint your family."

Fuck! What the hell was I going to do. My father was waiting for a response, and I knew I had no other choice but to say, "I will sign it, Papa. You have my word."

Oh dear. I am in such a dilemma. I really need some time to think things through. You know you still haven't met my friend, Deaky yet. Neither have I, of course, but I will eventually. Why don't you let him know I'm coming, darlings, because I want some peace and quiet to contemplate my decision. I promise that we'll talk again soon, my lovies. Goodbye for now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it. The next chapter will be in Deaky's POV. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	6. Whenever This World is Cruel to Me...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is sent to a rebel camp where he meets up with Brian and Roger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for all of the comments and kudos. I never expected to get over 200 hits so quickly!!!
> 
> Warning: This chapter contains mention and implications of rape that could be triggering. Reader discretion is advised.

_John’s POV_

I really messed up. I made the biggest mistake of my life. It all started the day my girlfriend and soulmate, Veronica, decided to show up at my house unannounced. Meetings between soulmates prior to marriage were encouraged, but if we were alone in a room, we had to keep the door open. The restrictive pre-marriage mandates were no problem for us because we were taking things slow, trying to build a friendship before moving on to romance. I had only kissed her a few times. She’d always giggle at how red my face would get, but I was glad she found it cute. In addition to being kind and funny, I thought Veronica was absolutely gorgeous and perfect for me. The only problem was my shyness when it came to expressing my feelings. We loved each other and both knew it, but I would get nervous and back out last minute whenever I wanted to say those three special words to her.

That all changed the day she chose to visit without warning. You see, I was in the shower. Oh, get your mind out of the gutter! You can talk to Freddie or Roger if want those kind of details. Anyway, I was in the shower, singing a song I had written for Veronica. The shocks were still effective even in the water, but I kept singing, unaware that Veronica was directly outside and could hear me loud and clear. Walking out of the shower wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around my waist, I nearly dropped dead when I saw my love sitting on my bed. Her eyes sparkled when she saw me, and a warm feeling washed over me. Unfortunately, when I spoke, I was unable to convey how happy I was to see her. My voice came out in a surprised squeak. “R-Ronnie? What are you doing here?”

“Your parents let me in. They said you were in your room.”

“Um, yeah I was in the shower.” ‘ _Smooth, real smooth, Deaks.’_

“I could see that.” Veronica said, fully embracing my awkwardness with a timid smile, “So am I ever going to meet this best friend of yours?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You were singing what sounded like a love sing for your best friend.”

I froze in shock, not sure what to do. No one was supposed to know about my songs, not even Veronica. I was going to be sent to a rebel camp and die. Oh God! I knew this day was coming. It was only a matter of time. My fate was sealed the moment I put pen to paper and decided to write all these songs. Sensing my woes, Veronica threw her arms around me lovingly.

“You know I’ve been to an abandoned museum.” she whispered, “Rebels hang there at night and play music. There’s a certain adorable boy who plays his guitar in the corner and avoids everyone because he’s so cute and scared. I want to tell him that there’s no reason to be afraid. Just having a talent and expressing it like he does makes him the bravest person I know.”

I gasped at her confession. She knew about Brian’s secret club? I knew I kept to myself whenever I was there, but I was sure that I would’ve noticed her watching me. Veronica stared up at me expectantly and I knew I had to break my silence. “How long have you known?” I inquired. “Long enough to discover that the sweet, bashful man I love also happens to be a badass rebel.” She giggled.

Me badass? What a joke! I didn’t even want to say the word ass aloud I was so polite. What a dork I was! Wait. What did she say before that badass rebel part? I couldn’t have heard her correctly. As if to confirm, Veronica tenderly put her hands on the back of my neck and closed the gap between us, kissing me with passion. We were both beaming and gasping for air when we broke apart. “Ronnie, did you just say that you loved me?” I blurted. “Well, that depends.” She said biting her lip nervously, “You still haven’t told me. Who’s your best friend?”

“It’s you, you’re all I see!” I declared, not hesitating this time, “I love you, Veronica! The song is for you.” “Oh, Deaky! I love you too.” She proclaimed making my heart race. There wasn’t much more talking after that, just kissing until we collapsed back onto the bed together.

“We should go to the club together now that you know that I know.” Veronica suggested.

“As long as we don’t get caught together. Maybe we can go separately and meet there. It might be too risky to go together.”

“I think we’ll be fine, John. We just have to be extra careful.”

If I could go back in time, I would’ve scolded myself to giving in to her request. I was too naive to believe that my happiness could last. We did end up going to the club together that night, and it also happened to be the night that I let my guard down. I wanted to show off to Veronica what I could do when I had a guitar in my hands. So used to playing through the pain of the shocks, I continued to strum despite my bracelet flashing red. At that point it was too late to turn back. It was my final warning to cease what I was doing, but I was so focused and determined to continue the song that I completely ignored it.

“Deaky, no!” Veronica screamed, pulling me away from the music in time to see that my bracelet was no longer flashing red. The red light was now a steady glow. That could only mean one thing.

“Ronnie, run!” I shouted, pushing her in the direction of the door, “Get out of here! Don’t look back!”

The last thing I saw was Veronica’s back as she sprinted to safety before the white hot pain around my wrist intensified. My vision blurred with tears as a team of officers charged into the room. The world seemed to move in slow motion, everything around me becoming a blur as an officer shoved me to the ground. This was it, what I had been fearing my entire life. I glanced up, past the officers’ boots, seeing another pair of long legs at the edge of a stairwell. My gaze continued to travel upward until I met two sad brown eyes belonging to none other than Brian May. Now I truly gathered the selfishness of my accident. His club was going to be shut down because of me. He’d probably end up in a rebel camp as well.

“I’m sorry.” I choked before blacking out.

***

“John!” I stirred at the sound of someone calling my name. I found myself in a room resembling a prison cell. It was a dark, dirty room with nothing but a sink an a toilet. Bars were in front of me confirming that I was indeed a prisoner. Well, my life was over. A man stood on the other side of the bars. “Good. You’re awake.” he said, “Do you know where you are?”

“I’m in hell.” I’m sorry for the offensive language, but I was genuinely terrified right now and had to vent.

“You’re in a holding cell in Rebel Camp 53.” The man stated, “I’m John Reid. I’ve been assigned as your party supervisor. It’s my job to help you get out of here and reintegrate into society.”  **AN: I have no idea why I chose John Reid to be his party supervisor. I just couldn’t come up with a name for an original character.**

I was still scared out of my mind, but his words brought a glimmer of hope to my bleak situation. “I can get out of here?” I asked, barely above a whisper. It was a miracle Mr. Reid could even hear me. He nodded. “You’ll be given plenty of chances to redeem yourself. Within a year, the party board will make the final parole decision, and you could very likely be released and sent to the watchlist neighborhood to live out the rest of your life serving the party in peace.” A lump formed in my throat as I comprehended his words. A year! I’d be trapped in this horrible place for 365 days. There was no way I’d survive the night, let alone a whole year.

“I’m here to ensure that the party board rules in your favor.” Reid continued, “Do you have any questions so far?”

There was one dark question looming in the back of mind, but I was too afraid to ask. Somehow I mustered the courage. “What if they don’t rule in my favor? Will I be stuck here forever?”

“The goal is to avoid that possibility, but you are fortunate to be living in a kingdom with such a forgiving queen. Any other ruler would surely have such citizens executed for being so irredeemable, but thankfully she is no killer queen. As you know, our queen is very compassionate and banned the death penalty long before instituting the New Order.”

That didn’t answer my question and only made me more fearful. Reid seemed register my anxiety and elaborated, “You won’t be killed, but you will be flash frozen. You’ll lie peacefully in a soft bed with machines breathing for you and providing you with nourishment. We’ll ensure the your existence is comfortable even though there was nothing we could do to turn around your rebellious ways.”

In my mind, being dead and being a comatose vegetable were synonymous. As far as I was concerned, the Queen of Rhye was indeed a killer queen. Daring to believe such a slanderous thing about our gracious ruler resulted in a nasty long lasting shock. Reid shook his head sadly, but there was pity in his expression rather than sympathy.

“What can I do to get parole?” I asked, failing to hide the desperation in my voice.

Reid perked up. “Good. You’re learning. See, John, there’s always hope. I know you’ll do great, and one day we’ll have your loyalty in the party faithfully restored.”

Much to my surprise, he fiddled with a string of keys and unlocked the bars confining me to the cell. Now that we were face to face without any restraints between us, Reid formally shook my hand. He presented me with a black knapsack heavy with unknown objects. Despite my overwhelming curiosity to peak inside the bag, I knew better than to open it without Reid’s permission.

“Everything you’ll need to survive is in here.” Reid explained, “In a few moments I’ll be taking you to your permanent cell, but there are some things you need to know first. You’ll be sharing your cell with other rebels.”

As much as I dreaded the idea of spending my days all alone in this solitary confinement, this news was alarming. Yes, for the most part other rebels were ordinary people mixed up in this mess just like me. However, there were exceptions. Rebel camps also hosted the true criminals that one should legitimately fear like violent thieves, murderers, and rapists. I knew for a fact that there was one such thug locked somewhere in this facility with me because I had been the one to report him. I knew I would regret squealing and now the time had come for me to face my actions. Shuddering at the thought of being locked in a room with my attacker, the memories of that night flashed through my mind—The pain; the helplessness; those evil eyes meeting my pleading ones; his powerful hands forcefully pinning me down against my will leaving me with nothing to focus on but the flashing yellow light on his bracelet as he violated me. I hate reliving that memory, but I guess you have the right to know what had happened to me when I was fifteen. If Freddie, Brian and Roger all trust you, then you’re my friend too and I can confide in you. Don’t pry me for details because it’s so painful to recount. Basically, I was heading to Brian’s club after curfew, but I was caught by an officer. I begged him not to report me, and he agreed on one condition, which you can probably guess. Thankfully, I was able to get the officer’s name. I reported him, gladly taking the minor infraction of disobeying curfew in order to see that bastard get what he deserved. The support of my friends, family (and secret musical therapy) helped me comes to terms with what had happened and move past the trauma. However, the one thing that truly allowed me to overcome the attack was meeting and falling in love with Veronica. She helped me forgive this cruel world (hence the song lyric if you didn’t catch that). I wasn’t sure how I’d make it through this terrifying year without her. I thought for sure that I would never have to face my rapist ever again, but now that I was in behind bars with him, it was quite possible that we’d cross paths.

“You will spend most of your time here in your cell with the other rebels.” Reid interrupted my horrible flashbacks, “I’d say on average you’ll be spending 18-20 hours a day in your cell. The time out of your cell will be spent in your assigned job station, which I believe is in the incineration center. So that will take up about 2-5 hours of your day. Meals of course will be sent to your cell. Any questions so far?” When I timidly shook my head, he went on. “Now, there are two types of rebels: law breakers and contract breachers. You are a law breaker, so you will be assigned to a cell with one other law breaker and two contract breachers. We like to keep it even—two and two.”

In other words, there was a 1/3 chance that one of my cellmates was my rapist. I prayed as hard as I could that the odds would work in my favor, hardly hearing the rest of what Reid had to say. Then I realized I should have been listening when he released a major bombshell that left me trembling in a panic. “That’s why there are no cameras in the cells.”

“W-what?”

“In the notebooks we’ve supplied you with in your knapsack, we want you to record any suspicious behaviors or activities that you observe in your cellmates. This is key to reintegration, John. You need to learn to recognize rebellious tendencies. Once a week, we will meet and review your findings. Of course, if any of your cellmates rebel outright, you are obligated to report them using your bracelet. Do you know how to—“

“—I’ve done it before, yes. I know how to file a report.” I cut him off.

“Good. I’m glad you’re already in the habit of spotting rebels.” Reid just assumed that was the reason why I had issued a report, “Your writings in the notebooks will be one of the things I show to the party board for your parole review, so be sure to keep accurate records.”

He stepped back out of the bars, but before I could follow him, he shut them again. I gulped anxiously as he twisted the key in the lock to confirm that I wasn’t about to break free. “Just a precaution.” Reid assured me, “I’m going to give you some privacy while you change into your new uniform jumpsuit. You’ll find it in folded in your knapsack. Once you’re changed and ready to for me to escort you to your permanent cell, tap my contact on your bracelet. It’s been added under the title party supervisor.”

The new apparel was identical to the old one with one slight difference. Instead of a drab tan color, this jumpsuit was a dull lifeless grey. It wasn’t much of an upgrade, but I put the garment on without any complaints. As promised, Reid returned when I signaled for him with my bracelet.

“I should warn you,” Reid spoke as he guided me down the never ending dingy industrial hallway, “If you attempt to escape or if your fellow rebels report you, you’ll be returned to solitary confinement while I make the final decision whether or not to have you flash frozen.”

“I’ll behave.” I quivered.

“Good. I don’t see any reason to worry.” Reid came to a halt at one of the steel windowless doors. Using his string of keys, Reid shoved open the heavy door with an unsettling creak. “Signal me with your bracelet if you need anything. See you in a week, John!” He said and abruptly pushed me inside. The motion happened too quickly. I barely had time to see him slam the door the door right in my face. I found myself staring at the other side of the locked door, which had no handles or knobs, melting in with the barren white walls. The cell was thankfully much larger than the one I had been in before, but I had to remember I’d be sharing it with three other men. Aside from the two sets of bunkbeds, the room was not furnished. More evidently, it reeked as if something had died in here recently. In the back corner, I noticed a partitioned retreat, which I assumed was a bathroom. An overhead fluorescent light shined brightly and seemed to have no on or off switch.

“Don’t panic. We’re going to be okay.” I nearly screamed when I realized that I wasn’t alone. Brian May was laying on the top bunk, his legs dangling over the edge. He looked strangely calm for being in such a messed up situation. I just hoped he didn’t recognize me as the reason the storm troopers trashed his club and got him arrested. “You were the boy with the bass guitar from last night?” Brian voiced the exact thing I had been fearing.

“I’m sorry.” I cried, “I’m so sorry.”

Brian jumped down from the bed, again remaining oddly calm. “What are you sorry for…John, was it?”

“Deaky. My friends call me Deaky.” Oh shoot! There was no way he wanted to befriend me. Not after my mistake that cost us our lives.

“What’s wrong? Well, I mean beside the obvious.”

“I-I’m the reason you’re here.” I sighed, “It was my bracelet that triggered the guard alert.”

Brian shook his head. “It’s not your fault. I knew my house of cards was bound to collapse eventually. It was only a matter of time. I don’t want you feeling guilty. You should never feel guilty for playing music no matter what the party dictates.”

“So, you’re not mad?” I whispered.

“Of course not. That could’ve been any one of us playing the guitar, myself included. I knew that risk when I started the club. I would never hold something like this against you, Deaky.”

“Thank you.”

“I want us to get along, considering we’ll be spending up to 20 hours a day in here together.”

I noted the other three empty bunks. “Where are the others?”

“Dunno. I just got here a few minutes before you did actually. You should claim the other top bunk before they get here.”

I settled my knapsack on the adjacent top bunk, taking slow soothing deep breaths. This was all so surreal. Last night I was a free man (well free as I could be under the New Order), now I was locked in a grisly room with three strangers. I only prayed they’d all be strangers. Otherwise, I might…Wait a minute.

“Brian, you’re here because you broke the law, right?” I confirmed.

“The law is wrong, but that’s right. I assume you’re also here for breaking the law?”

“Mmhmm. That means the other two will be in here for breaching their contracts. That’s what Reid told me anyway.”

“That’s what I was told as well.”

As soon as he said this I felt so much better than I had before. Whoever I’d be sharing this room with, at least none of them were my rapist. That in itself was a small victory for me.

“I know two people who might be contract breachers.” Brian sighed, “It’s selfish of me to wish they were here with us.”

“I know what you mean.” I murmured, spilling the containments of my knapsack onto the bed, “I wish my girlfriend was here, but I’d never want her to ever experience something like this.”

“For now we have each other, don’t we, Deaky?”

“It appears so.” I remarked, staring down at the notebooks designated solely for spilling on my friends. “Brian, what are we going to do about these books? Reid will expect to see something, and I really don’t want to be flash frozen.”

“You are a terrible rebel, Deaks, no offense.” Brian said with a smirk, “Obviously, we’re going to have to lie. We just write down minor infractions that sound reasonable. For example, I could write that I noticed you talking in your sleep about how you miss music. Saying that sounds true, so it looks good on my end, but it won’t get you in any trouble.”

I grinned. “Why didn’t I think of that? There’s still a chance of getting out of here after all!”

Brian nodded. “We need to make sure that the other two—whoever they may be—are trustworthy. Otherwise the plan is worthless.”

“You think they’ll throw us under the bus?”

“If they do, that dream of getting out of here won’t come true.”

“Oh.” I choked, letting the gloom settle over me again.

“We’re lucky though.” Brian remarked, “All we have to do is keep our heads down for the next year. The contract breachers, on the other hand…” He trailed off, shaking his head despondently.

“What happens to them?” I wondered.

“They face a different kind of ultimatum. They have until the end of the year to sign to their contracts. Their weekly sessions with their party supervisors are nothing more than rounds of torture in an attempt to get them to sign early.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Running an underground club gives you a lot of information. Speaking of which,” Brian said, climbing back onto the bed, “let’s meet our neighbors, shall we?”

I realized that he had been holding a piece of paper likely torn from one of his own notebooks. I didn’t get a chance to see what was written on the paper before Brian reached up and pawed at the metal cage in front of an air vent on the ceiling. He managed to unhinge the cage and slide his paper inside, but he wasn’t done fidgeting his hand in the vent. “Ah! Someone has left us a message.” Brian proclaimed as he pulled a different piece of paper out of the vent. I examined the uncovered letter alongside him.

‘ _Hello, to whomever discovered this letter by chance. My name is David Bowie. I was sent here for writing music, which should not be a sin. Currently, I have no cellmates, but three other men will be joining me soon. Give a response if you can. I need to know that I am not alone.’_

“Can we trust him?” I asked.

“We might just have to chance it. This is the only way we’ll be able to communicate with the outside world for the next year.” Brian reasoned, “I wrote a similar letter. Hopefully, Bowie will receive it. We need to support one another. It’s how the rebel community thrives.”

I jumped when I heard the clack of the steel door unlocking. Just like Reid tossing me in here, the swift motion of a man stumbling backwards into our cell happened too quickly for me to process what was happening. I caught a fleeting glimpse of a chubby bearded man, likely a party supervisor, slamming the door shut in the newcomer’s face. The blonde charged at the closing door. “Fuck you Ray Foster, you little wanker! I’m not signing the bloody thing, and you can flash freeze me for all I care!”

“Roger?”

The man turned in response to Brian calling his name. Unlike me, Brian had been able to recognize his bandmate from behind. I had only seen Roger on a stage behind a drum set, so it took me a moment to register his face in my mind.

“Brian! Oh thank God you’re not some crazy maniac! I mean you are, but at least I know you.” Roger said running to Brian and flinging his arms around him.

I awkwardly watched as the two friends embraced. It would have been a touching reunion if the circumstances were better. Regardless, I felt like an outsider. Brian acknowledged me out of the corner of his eye and gave a slight a nod as he let go of Roger. “By the way, Rog, this is—“

“Deaky!” Roger exclaimed, smiling widely when he saw me, “Alright! You’re also not a crazy maniac. This is great!”

“Y-you know me?” I was taken aback.

Roger’s smile faded. “Um, no. We haven’t met, but I had this vision thing, and you were there, and I knew you. Brian, you were there too, and so was Freddie. We were all in a band together, and it was the greatest thing I ever…Oh now I probably sound like the crazy maniac.”

“Roger!” Brian scolded, “I told you that hallucination test was a trap. You were supposed to just sit still. It’s no wonder you received a contract bad enough to reject when you all but flaunted your talent at the party.”

Roger flinched at his sudden harsh tone. “Don’t lecture me, Bri! I’m not in the mood. I probably would’ve gotten a fucked up contract regardless of what I did in that test.”

“We were in a band?” I asked, making the two look over at me.

“It was the most amazing thing I ever experienced!” Roger said that same smile returning to his face, “You were our bassist. Well, first you were balancing bass and piano because Freddie had to play drums for me. Then, I got there and the true concert began. Freddie even let me sing for him because my song was just that damn good that not even he could do it justice.”

“We’re talking about Freddie Mercury right?” Brian asked with a snicker.

“Our Freddie.” Roger confirmed. He cleared his throat before poorly imitating a posh voice, “Roger, darling, you need to sing your song, not me. Everyone came here to hear you because you wrote our most popular song.”

“Okay,” Brian said skeptically, “I can believe that we’re in a band because we practically are already, and it’s a bit of a stretch, but I’ll buy that Freddie let you sing lead vocals on one song, but I draw the line at you writing our most popular song.”

“You’re just jealous. You know you could never come up with a masterpiece as brilliant as I’m in Love With my Car.” The way Roger said this with so much confidence was enough to make me lose it. Both Brian and I toppled over in fits of endless laughter.

“Totally jealous.” Roger scoffed. With an eye roll, he placed his knapsack on the bed below Brian’s. “You just wait till Freddie gets here. I’m sure he’ll back me up.”

At the mention of Freddie again, Brian stopped laughing. “Don’t say that, Roger! We need to hope that Freddie was smarter than you and didn’t give into the temptations in his test. Let’s pray that his contract didn’t threaten any of his talents and he’s off living a happy life secretly singing to his heart’s content.”

“He’d be so lucky if that were the case.” Roger said with a far off look in his blue eyes. I was tempted to ask what his contract had in store for him, but decided against it. All I could do now was revel in the solemn silence that had overcome the room and wait for Freddie or whoever the fourth mystery person may be to arrive. You should go see what Freddie is up to while we wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you think? Is Roger right? Is Freddie going to be their final cellmate? I think the answer is kind of obvious LOL.


	7. Too Late, my Time has Come...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie tries to figure out how to get out of his contract and ends up running into the real Jim Hutton after a fight with Mary. Sparks fly, but Freddie knows things won't last...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Over 300 hits. Thanks everyone! This chapter is going to be a bit heavier as it deals with Freddie’s sexuality and his relationships with Mary and Jim (who he will meet for real in this chapter). I hope you like it!

_Freddie’s POV_

Hello again, darlings. Mary and I just arrived at our new house. Neighborhood 5 was nearly identical to Neighborhood 10, so the layout was exactly the same as our old houses with three bedrooms upstairs and a kitchen and living room downstairs—modest enough. If I knew I wouldn’t be gracing these halls silently, I actually wouldn’t mind living here too much. In a weird way, I could see myself growing old with Mary here. We’d sit out on the porch, sipping tea (which I heard was easily accessible in this neighborhood) and enjoying our retirement together. That perfect image popped like a fragile little soap bubble when the flaws presented themselves. Sure, Mary would be happy and that in turn would make me happy, but I’d probably be wondering what could have been if I were allowed to explore my sexuality further. Oh and not to mention that I wouldn’t be able to say a fucking word to her or anyone else for that matter. I’d just be stripped of my ability to communicate and do the one thing I live for—no big deal.

“Oh, Freddie isn’t this wonderful!” Mary sighed blissfully. She spun around the house, giggling to herself. “I was just imaging our future here together.”

“Me too, love.” I said, taking her hands in mine. She was so content. I couldn’t let her down. Just watching her excitement fade away to concern for me nearly broke my heart.

“Freddie, what’s wrong?”

I couldn’t meet her eyes, so I still looked down at our enjoined hands. The rings were what stood out above anything else. Regardless of my sexuality, I refused to break my commitment to Mary because I really did love her. Even if I denied my contract, she’d still be my soulmate, and I wanted to make that fact apparent before I disappeared forever.

“Freddie, you’re scaring me.” Mary spoke up, “What’s going on?”

“I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“Never take your ring off. No matter what happens, never take it off.” I stressed, “Do you promise?”

“Of course I promise. Promise me you’ll never take yours off.”

Was I allowed to wear a soulmate wedding band in a rebel camp? Brian would probably know the answer to that one. Oh well. I already planned on breaking my promise to my father. How many more loved ones was I going to disappoint over this bloody contract? I would regret this, but it was only fair. “I promise, darling. This ring is never coming off my finger.”  _If they don’t pry it off of me in the rebel camp._

“Well, now that we’re settled, you should sign your contract and seal the deal.” Mary said. “Seal it with a kiss.” I replied factitiously, giving her a big smooch on the lips. “Freddie,” she laughed, pulling away from me, “I’m serious.”

“So am I, darling. It’s not our house until we have sex in it!” Yes! That would buy me some time and provide me with some much needed pleasure. “We need to have sex in every single room!” I declared.

“Freddie, what the hell is going on?” Mary was more blunt this time, “Please tell me why you’re avoiding signing the contract. Is it me? Is it something I did? Do you not want to be with me?”

“No!” I shouted, “Please, Mary, you know you mean the world to me.”

“Then what is it?” She begged, “I know we’re not supposed to discuss our contracts in detail, but if it’s really that bad you can surely tell me.”

Part of me just wanted to spill everything to her right then and there. And when I say everything, I mean everything. I’d tell her I was a bisexual rebel with a singing voice the party threatened to stifle. The only thing stopping me was the aftermath. While I’d be clinging to dear life in a rebel camp, officers would be interrogating poor Mary.  _“Do you know why he refused to sign his contract? You know withholding information about rebels can also be viable grounds to send you to a rebel camp…”_ I couldn’t put her in that position.

“Didn’t you say they were going to give you a tour of the neighborhood medical center today?” I changed the subject, “After all, tomorrow you start training for your new job as a pediatrician. You should be prepared.”  **AN: For some reason, I felt like making Mary a doctor, and pediatrician seemed like a good fit. Remember none of this is accurate obviously.**

“Sign your contract!” Mary shouted, tears welling up in her beautiful blue eyes, “Why are you doing this to us, Freddie? I love you. I-if they take you away from me…They can’t. They won’t. You’re going to sign the damn thing.”

“Give me time to think of something!” I cried.

“Think of something? There’s nothing to bloody think about. Just do it! It’s a matter of life or death! Whatever you’re agreeing to, it can’t be as bad as the torturous things they’ll do to you in a rebel camp.”

“I’ll still have my voice in a rebel camp!” I snapped. Shit!

Mary went silent for a moment, considering my words. “What do you mean?” she whispered.

“Nothing.” I dismissed, “I told you too much. You should go.”

“Don’t shut me out, Freddie, please. I need to know.”

I couldn’t bear this. It was too heartbreaking. There was no way I’d be able to tell Mary anything. I saw no other choice, but to give her a distraction while I figured out a plan. “Just go. I’ll see you later, alright?”

“Will you see me later? For all I know, I’ll come home and you’ll be gone…taken to a—“

“—Don’t say it.” I cut her off.

“…Rebel camp.” Mary finished.

“You’ll be back before my deadline. I still have a good sixteen hours left. That’s plenty of time.” I assured her. I convinced myself it was enough time to scheme even though I was coming up short.

“You’re being really selfish, Freddie. I hope you realize that. I pray to God that you come to your senses by the time I’m back.” I had never heard Mary address me this coldly. Her tone harbored deep within the pits of my stomach. We rarely fought, but when we did it hurt like this.

“Please just give me time.” I whispered.

“You don’t have much time left.” Mary said through gritted teeth. With that, she turned and walked out the door. It took a lot to make Mary mad enough to leave without saying goodbye. I hung my head in despair. What the hell was I supposed to do?

I wandered into the bathroom and stared at my reflection in the mirror for a lengthy amount of time. Caressing my jaw, I memorized every aspect of the feature I hated most about myself. “I’m going to miss you, Bucky.” I whispered. Unable to look at myself any longer without tearing up, I shifted my attention onto my bracelet. A clock was ticking down on the home screen, slowly eating away at my precious time. With each second that went by, my heart rate sped up its pace. I swear I was on the verge of a sheer heart attack! I pulled up my contract again, this time more observant of that final deadly blow and its fine print.

You will undergo oral surgery to have your vocal cords completely removed from your body. This will result in you being unable to make any sounds.  _You will still be able to communicate by typing in your bracelet. Your words will be displayed in a holographic banner like subtitles in a film._

What kind of fucked up explanation could the party ever use to justify this bullshit? Tapping it for further information would only anger me, but for some reason I did it anyway.  _‘It is unfair that you possess unique vocal capabilities that differentiate you from others. Excelling over others in any area of expertise is_ _not_ _allowed under the New Order. When we are all one in the same, we can achieve a fair and happy society.’_

“What’s unfair is that you assholes are muting me because of the jealousy of other people!” I shouted, earning a shock for referring to the party members as assholes.

“Fine, I’ll give in!” I groaned, retrieving a pair of scissors from the drawer. As far I as I could see, there were no hair products available in this neighborhood, so I might as well cave to the least objectionable clause in this entire bloody contract. Maybe I’d even consider growing that mustache as well. Ignoring the shocks, I sang softly to myself as I snipped my black locks. Might as well indulge in my voice once last time before it was stolen from me.

“ _Too late, my time has come_

_Sends shivers down my spine_

_Body's aching all the time_

_Goodbye everybody I've got to go_

_Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth_ …”

I dropped the scissors when I heard the sound of the front door opening and footsteps walking in my direction. Damn this neighborhood and their enforcement of the no locked doors rule! My bracelet was flashing pink. Could Mary be home from her tour already? Hopefully, she didn’t hear me singing. I knew I had to face her eventually.

“Darling, I told you I just need time to—“

It wasn’t Mary on the other end of the threshold. I was looking back at familiar and warm brown eyes. Despite never meeting the man in person, I recognize this stranger as Jim Hutton, my lover from the hallucination. He looked just as handsome as he did in the vision and I couldn’t help but smile nearly forgetting to keep my mouth shut. The last thing I wanted was for him to see my teeth. What kind of first impression would that make!

“Sorry to bother you.” He said, “I’m here to work on your garden.”

“Oh yes.” I realized, “They mentioned something about the neighborhood gardner stopping by to help us with the flowers. We should really wait for Mary to come back. She’s my—my—“ Jim’s bracelet was also flashing pink. What the hell? There was no way this was possible. It had to be some mistake.

“I have a feeling we’ve met somewhere before.” Jim remarked.

“No.” I denied, “I would remember meeting you, dear.”

His face sunk. “Then, I guess I’m wrong.”

“No harm done.” I assured him, feeling bad for lying, “I suppose I can take a look at the flowers without Mary.”

We walked outside to the front yard and crouched down in the grasslike turf. Jim unloaded his bag of flowers. They were fake of course, but I appreciated the one variety of color allowed in this dull world. Living in Neighborhood 9 would have been a true nightmare. “You’re allowed up to ten flowers of any kind or color.” Jim explained, “Feel free to mix and match.”

“No thorns.” I noted as, I ran my fingers across the plastic stem of a rose. Putting it my nose, I surprisingly received no aroma. “Do you ever miss real flowers?” I sighed, anticipating the shock before it could hit me.

“More than you can imagine.” Jim said sadly, “But you can’t say that kind of stuff out loud.”

Our fingers both reached for the stem of the daisy at the same time, touching for a brief moment. I glanced down, hoping Jim didn’t notice my cheeks flushing. This was wrong. Still, I noticed that he wasn’t wearing a ring.

“Don’t want to dirty your ring with soil, huh?” I presumed, still not looking him in the eye.

“Oh. Actually, I’m not married.”

My heart skipped a beat. It almost seemed too good to be true. How could he be assigned to a job without marrying his soulmate first? “Is that so?” I drawled, casually picking up the daisy.

“My soulmate rejected her contract before we could get married. I haven’t heard from her since they took her away.” Jim clarified.

“I’m so sorry.” Was I though? Most definitely not. Jim didn’t even appear too devastated. I wondered how Mary would react when I…

“Honestly, I was relieved.” Jim spoke up, “I mean obviously I wouldn’t wish a bad contract and sentence to a rebel camp on anyone, but I couldn’t marry her.”

Could Jim possibly be like me? What if we were meant to be soulmates this entire time and that was why our bracelets were flashing pink? After all, it was him in my vision, not Mary. Our eyes locked again, and I could see that Jim was also blushing much to my relief.

“I know you know me, Freddie Mercury. Surely, you saw me in your hallucination too.” Jim said directly. I nearly died when he said my name with his sweet Irish accent. “Of course I saw you, darling.” I blurted, “I don’t know what it means, but it has to mean something, right?”

“Look at our bracelets and tell me what it means!” Jim insisted.

“There’s no way…We both have other soulmates. Besides, part of the soulmate pairing is the likelihood of productive and healthy reproduction. There’s not much we can do in that department.” I rambled.

“Then why wouldn’t we just be flashing blue for each other?”

Ah. Blue again, you ask. Maybe it’s time I explained that to you, darlings, because I did promise after all. Our bracelets omitted a blue light if someone other than our soulmate attracted our attention. It was quite common. Mary even admitted from time to time that her bracelet would light up blue if she saw a handsome man pass her by on the street. It would be hypocritical of me to get angry with her for this because the same thing would happen to me. Literally. Girls never made my bracelet blue, only boys. I told you I’ve known I was gay for a while. This was one of the biggest indicators.

“Well it doesn’t even matter what color we’re flashing. You’ll never see me again after today. I’ll probably be in a rebel camp.” I exclaimed.

The flower flew from Jim’s hand, his jaw dropping. “Why would you say that, Freddie? Don’t wish that onto yourself. We can make this work. Love can never be wrong.”

Did he just imply that he loved me? One thing to deal with at a time. “This hasn’t anything to do with being gay. It’s my contract. You see they want me to…well, I’m a rebel because I sing.” I babbled incoherently. How was that harder to admit to him than being gay?

“Of course you sing.” Jim said with a small smile, “You have the voice of an angel. I don’t see how that’s a problem. As long as the party never finds out, you can keep singing. I want to hear you again.”

“You’ve heard me?” I gasped.

“Well, you serenaded me in my hallucination.” Jim said, blushing again.

“Did I?” I laughed, “Oh, Jim, you lucky darling! I hope I didn’t make you feel too uncomfortable.”

“It was nice actually. I was starting to think that you weren’t real, but now here you are, and I heard you earlier singing in the bathroom with that same angelic voice. Can you blame me for falling for you after hearing you sing?”

Good God! Jim Hutton was beyond perfect. It made  _me_ wonder if he was real. “Darling, you are such a flirt!” I exclaimed.

“You’re the one who keeps calling me darling.”

“I call everyone darling!”

“Darling.” Jim mocked, completely butchering my accent. He smiled to assure me it was all in good fun.

“Darling.” I repeated, and before I knew what was happening, my instincts took over and I kissed Jim just like I had in my vision. He kissed back hungrily making us both moan.

“Fuck.” I sighed as we both fell back onto the turf. As much as I wanted to continue whatever the hell I had started, I couldn’t. The realization that I’d be leaving two people heartbroken was tugging at the back of my mind. I rolled away from him. “Jim, we can’t do this.”

“You kissed me, not the other way around!” He said, crawling back to me.

“I know. I’m sorry. It was wrong of me.”

“Look, Freddie, I know the party thinks this wrong because we can’t biologically have children, but there’s no way that what I’m feeling for you is wrong.”

“They’re going to rip out my vocal cords!” The words came out of nowhere.

Jim sat up, no longer pursuing me. He shook his head, opening his mouth as if to say something, then closing it shut. Finally, he broke the silence with a curse. “Shit!”

“Whatever it is we’re doing right now I’m enjoying it, believe me, I’m enjoying it a lot, but there’s no point in engaging if I’m just going to leave you.” It was the honest truth. Pursuing a relationship with Jim was something that I wanted more than anything. If things weren’t so complicated, I’d find a way to break the news to Mary. How did this day ever go from me imaging myself growing old with Mary to suddenly trying figure out the best way to come out to her? Either way it was all in vein because I was going to be shipped off to a rebel camp in a matter of hours.

Jim nodded peering back at me through teary eyes. “You’re making the right choice, Freddie. Don’t you dare sign that devil’s deal. Nothing is worth giving up what you have.” He winced as his bracelet hit him with a lengthy shock. I wrapped my arms around him lovingly taking in his words. Brutal honesty was something I needed, but it definitely was not desirable right now.

“How much time do you have left?” Jim whispered.

“About fourteen and a half hours give or take.”

I sat with him in my arms, staring up at the empty gray sky, if one even dared to call this artificial landscape a sky. I thought back to last night when I was able to look up and see real stars, vast and bright.

“Freddie, would you like to come back to my place? I can make us some smuggled tea.” Jim offered, “Tea and soft drinks are quite common in this neighborhood.”

I was never one to turn down temptation, and if Jim Hutton wasn’t tempting in every sense of the word, then I didn’t know what was! He was playing a dangerous game, coming onto me like this. “I haven’t had tea in ages.” I acknowledged. Tea did indeed sound delightful. Probably the last time I had it was before I fled from my homeland. In Rhye meals were provided to us by the party at a certain time, and any other type of food or beverage was considered contraband.

“I want to make you remember these last few hours we have left, Freddie.” Jim said, taking my hand and kissing it, “It’s the least I can do for you.”

“I’ll leave a note for Mary.” I decided, “I think I’ll tell her that I went for a walk to explore the neighborhood and clear my head.”

“I’ll get you back home in time so you can tell her goodbye.” Jim promised.

There were more things I needed to tell Mary besides goodbye. I owed her an explanation. Knowing what I had to do helped me clear my conscience as I embraced Jim. After tonight, Mary would know that I loved her dearly, but she didn’t fulfill my physical desires, and my heart belonged to another man. She would understand. Accepting this made it easier to fall for Jim, and I knew for a fact that I was falling hard. There was nothing I could do to fight off these feelings, so I might as well welcome them like I would an old friend.

“Here we are!” Jim announced as we reached his house, identical to all the others, “Home sweet home.”

Before I could take anything in, a white fluff ball collided my leg. Squealing in absolute joy, I picked up the soft, frisky cat. Cuddling with cats had always been a dream of mine. Unfortunately, whenever I rescued strays back in my homeland, my father would scold me for bringing feral creatures in the home. Animals were scarce in Neighborhood 10. “Aren’t you precious?” I cooed, as the cat in my arms grumpily mewed, “Yes! Yes, you are so very precious.”

“Fluffy usually claws at me if I try to pick her up like that.” Jim laughed, “Did they allow for pets in your old neighborhood?”

I shook my head, and then continued to nuzzle my face against Fluffy’s plushy white fur. Of course my dream man had a cat. It only made sense. In this short time, everything I discovered about Jim screamed that we were meant to be together, and the pink in our bracelets seemed to confirm it. Could two soulmates really be a possibility?

“I’ll go get us our tea. Make yourself comfortable.”

“Alright, Fluffy, I’m going to put you down now, my love.” I said, gently placing the cat back onto the floor. When I sat down with Jim to enjoy the tea, Fluffy jumped right back onto my lap. I grinned and stroked her fur, making her purr.

“She really likes you, Freddie. I’m gonna have to compete for your affection, aren’t I?” Jim teased.

“You’ve already won, darling.” I said, winking at him flirtatiously.

“Cheers!” Jim proposed and we clinked our teacups together. The tea was cold and had a funny taste to it, but I couldn’t complain. I didn’t want to be an impolite houseguest after all.

“So, how’d you get so lucky?” I asked curiously, “You’re still your beautiful self and you probably had to sign a contract.”

“Believe me I’m just as surprised as you are. All I had to do was grow a mustache. I suppose I’m exactly what the party wants—completely ordinary, nothing special about me.”

“That’s bullshit. No one is ordinary, and certainly not you, my dear. If there were ordinary people in this world, the party wouldn’t waste its time with these bracelets and contracts. And trust me, I wouldn’t be wasting my time with an ordinary person. Ordinary is far too boring for my taste.”

“So what makes you think I’m unordinary?” he inquired.

Did Jim seriously see himself in this light? I had to remedy this problem and quick. “First off all don’t say unordinary, say extraordinary. And to answer what makes you extraordinary I’d say that I haven’t even known you for over an hour and you’ve already captured my heart. You’re charming, caring, and not to mention devilishly handsome.”

“Is it possible to fall in love this quickly?” Jim pondered, “I want to say I love you, but I barely even know you.”

“Let’s do something about that, shall we? What would you like to know, darling? Ask me anything you’d like.”

Just like that, we were immersed deep in a lengthy conversation as easy as zipping up a jumpsuit. I told Jim all about my life back in my homeland, stunning him with tales of tropical sunny beaches he had never experienced before but only read about in now banned books. Jim in turn described to me what snow was like for I had never gotten the chance to witness snowfall before the regulated weather had been put in place. Apparently Jim was one of ten siblings, can you imagine that! Every winter they would nearly kill each other with intense snowball fight wars. Of course the mention of war brought us to one particular topic I rarely ever opened up about.

“…One day I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of bombs going off, and my father pulled me out of bed saying we were under attack. I-I just remember running to the seaside, along hundreds of other families. We were just trying to stick together. There was an officer from Rhye ushering a mass of civilians onto a ship promising a refuge across the seven seas. I’m told that anyone not lucky enough to get on that ship was taken out by the bombs.” The teacup in my hand was shaking as I recounted the story of our survival, “But it was the Queen of Rhye’s regime did rescue us and put an end to the bombings. That’s not party propaganda. It’s true. I’m grateful to the party for saving my life, but that still doesn’t give them the right to give me such a disgusting contract.”  **AN: Freddie’s backstory is fictitious and fits into this AU. It has nothing to do with the real life Zanzibar Revolution that impacted Freddie Mercury and his family.** Until now, Mary was the only person I had ever told about that horrid day, and even then I didn’t boggle her with the details.

“I remember hearing about the bombings on the news,” Jim swallowed solemnly, “but I couldn’t imagine actually being there. You and your family were so brave to endure that. I’m so sorry, Freddie.”

“Funny thing is it really did come out of nowhere. I wasn’t even aware that there was a war being fought. I went to bed that night worrying about getting teased for joining the local boys’ ballet, and then the next I knew I was running for my life. I didn’t find out until later that the bombings were the work of a rogue terrorist organization that Rhye’s army thankfully managed to destroy. The whole thing still seems like a dream.”

“More like a nightmare.” Jim said darkly.

“No, darling, the only nightmare is my bloody contract.” I said, noting the time on my bracelet ticking ever so much closer toward my doom.

“You’re so strong, Freddie. If anyone can survive a rebel camp, it’s you.” He squeezed my hand affectionately.

“It is possible to fall in love this quickly.” I answered, “I love you, Jim Hutton.”

“I love you, too, Freddie Mercury.”

Fluffy had fallen asleep on my lap, but when Jim rose from his chair, she became alert again and hopped off of me. I dusted the remains of her shedding white fur off of my jumpsuit. Hand in hand, Jim and I ventured to the couch where we cuddled like two cats ourselves. Desperately, our lips met and we kissed in a frenzy, knowing there wasn’t much time left. “Let’s…” I said in between kisses, “take…this…to the bedroom.”

Jim suddenly stopped kissing me and stared at me wide eyed. Shit! I was moving too fast for him. Well, it wasn’t my fault that I was on stolen time. I had tried to warn him that this wouldn’t end well, but he pursued me anyway. If he hadn’t invited me over for tea, with those kind pleading brown eyes, then none of this—

“Freddie, I’m a virgin.”

How the hell was I supposed to respond to that? I was a textbook sex addict, thinking about it all the time, even right now—especially right now. Granted, I only had sex with Mary, but that didn’t make me inexperienced in the matter.

“Um, does it help if I tell you that it’d be my first time with a man?” I asked awkwardly.

“I think it’s too soon. This is all happening so fast. I’ve always wanted my first time to be special.”

“We can make it special, my love.”

“I’m sorry, Freddie. I wish I had more time with you, and we could do things properly.” Jim said, giving me another small kiss, “Are you mad?”

“No.” I said, and shockingly I wasn’t, the more I thought about it. It was wrong to force Jim to do anything against his will. The only reason I was so persistent was because I knew I’d never see him again, and it made the reality hurt even more. “I just want to make the most of the time we have together.” I said.

“Thank you, Freddie.” Jim understood, “Is there anything I can do to make this up for you?”

There were load of naught things I could put him up to that didn’t amount to sex, but surprisingly the most innocent suggestion came to mind. I would like nothing better than to show him how I felt the only way I knew how. “Darling, let me sing for you.” I whispered in his ear.

“Really?” He asked with the cutest little grin. I nodded and pecked his lips. “I need to outdo whatever I did to serenade you in your hallucination. I can’t have the fake me outshining the real me. Freddie Mercury can never be upstaged you know.”

“Even if he’s being upstaged by Freddie Mercury?” Jim giggled.

“Makes it all the more challenging to live up to, doesn’t it?” I gave him one final kiss before breaking into gentle song.

“ _Look into my eyes and you'll see_

_I'm the only one_

_You've captured my love_

_Stolen my heart_

_Changed my life_

_Every time you make a move_

_You destroy my mind_

_And the way you touch_

_I lose control and shiver deep inside_

_You take my breath away…”_

“Oh, love, you’re crying.” I shushed him, brushing the tears from his eyes.

“You’re an angel, Freddie. You deserve better. Don’t let them take your voice from you. Whatever you do, promise me you’ll never let them silence you.”

Finally a promise I could actually keep. “Not to worry, darling. Try as they might, but they can never stop me from doing what I love.”

I continued to sing to Jim, clinging to him tightly to make the shocks more bearable. I knew Jim had fallen asleep when he stopped trailing kissing gentle down my neck. I glanced down at my bracelet and my eyes nearly popped out of my head. Ten minutes remaining. Where did the time go? Did I really spend fourteen hours here with Jim? Oh no! Mary was probably worried sick about me. I left Jim with a note containing my completed lyrics giving us both a final promise of hope and love before dashing out the door.

_‘I will find you_

_Anywhere you go_

_Right until the ends of the Earth_

_I'll get no sleep till I find you to_

_Tell you when I've found you -_

_I love you’_

I hesitated before leaving a message on the flip side. This couldn’t be the last I ever heard or saw of Jim Hutton. It would hurt too much knowing that there wasn’t a glimmering chance that we’d meet again.

‘ _Get in contact with Brian May. He knows how to get messages in and out of rebel camps. Destroy this paper after you read it and tell no one about this._

_All my love,_

_Freddie’_

With that, I sprinted back to my house. The flowers from Jim’s bag were left scattered in disarray across the garden. He must’ve dropped them because he was so eager to bring me to his place for tea. Mary latched onto me the moment I burst through the door. “Oh for the love of God, Freddie, please tell me you’ve signed your contract! I was so scared something had happened. Where were you? Wait, did you get a haircut? When did that happen?”

Before I gave Mary an answer to any of her questions, I checked to see how much time I had left. There were only five minutes remaining. This was it. It was now or never. I’d probably never see Mary again after this, and she deserved to know the truth.

“Mary, I love you, and that won’t change…Well, the way I love you is going to change.” I attempted.

“What are you saying?”

“I-I think I’m bisexual.”

Mary exhaled deeply and pulled away from my embrace. “Freddie, you’re gay!” she cried. I hung my head and nodded, praying she would accept me for who I was before I bid her adieu.

“I’ve been suspecting for a while.” Mary sighed, “I mean I see your bracelet flashes blue around other men. I brushed it off as nothing.”

“I still love you. You have to believe me when I say that.” I insisted, tears spilling down my cheeks, “It’s just that I…”

“You were with a man, weren’t you? Is that where you disappeared to?”

“Yes.” I admitted, “I’m sorry. I can’t change how I feel, but I—“ She fumbled with the ring on her finger, and I nearly lost it. “No, Mary, darling you promised! Please don’t take your ring off!”

“What do you want from me, Freddie?” She shouted, her fingers getting dangerously close to removing her ring.

“I-I want you in my life no matter what. Please understand.” I begged.

Much to my relief, Mary crack a smile. She was still crying, but there was still compassion in her eyes and the same love she had for me before my confession. “You could never lose me, Freddie, even if you tried. We are soulmates after all. I’ll always be here for you, but this is going to make things very difficult. You know I’ll accept you and love you for who you are no matter what, but I’m afraid the party won’t—“

Before Mary could complete her thoughts, the officers arrived giving us no warning. Knowing what to expect, I put my hands in the air, but an officer still pinned me to the ground. I shut my eyes, accepting my fate. As long as I could still sing, there’d be hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another cliffhanger *evil laughter*! Don’t worry I will try to post the next chapter very soon.


	8. Now I'm Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul is his usual creepy self. The boys are finally all together!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 400 hits! I can’t thank you guys enough. Please continue to leave your comments and kudos. It really means a lot to me, and I appreciate your feedback. It’s been brought to my attention that having ANs in the middle of the story is distracting, so I will save all of my notes until the end. Please let me know what you think! With that out of the way, the show must go on!

You're still here, darlings? Well that's relieving. I'd hate to be alone right now. I was afraid to open my eyes so I basked in the darkness for a while, trying to deny what had happened. A hand was slowly stroking my back up and down. "Mary." I slurred sleepily.

"Shh. Everything's going to be okay, my sweet Persian."

Fuck! I wasn't with Mary. How could I be? Even if I were free, I doubt we'd ever be sharing a bed anymore. Jim would be the one holding me. I smiled and clung to the thought before facing reality and at last opening my eyes. Paul was kneeling down beside me while I lay on the grimy floor in a puddle of my own drool.

"Fuck!" I repeated this time out loud.

Paul clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Such profanity coming out of a pretty little mouth like yours."

"Well if it were up to you, this pretty little mouth of mine would be silent." I spat.

"You'd be cuter if couldn't talk back, yes," Paul murmured to himself, "but it appears as if you've made your decision. Otherwise you'd be in surgery right now."

"I've made my decision. So leave me alone. Just let me serve my sentence and be done with it."

"This is part of your sentence, Freddie."

I sat up, now fully awake. Paul and I were alone in a filthy prison cell. There was no around outside of the bars. I didn't know what I was expecting to find, but this certainly wasn't it. Where were all the medieval torture devices that plagued my darkest nightmares? Being trapped in here with the creepy prince was better than getting my body ripped apart, right?

"You cut your hair." Paul noted, trailing his fingers across my hairline, "It looks nice." I squirmed away from his touch which only made him inch even closer to me.

"So this is it, huh?" I muttered, "Just you and me in a cell. I expected something more grandiose for all the talks of the kind of torture that goes on in here."

"This isn't your permanent cell. It's just a holding cell." Paul clarified, "Believe me, I'd keep you in here with me longer if I could."

"I'm sure you would." I shuddered.

Refraining from touching me again, Paul eyed something in the upper corner. It was a camera. I wasn't sure if I should feel relieved or not. The Prince of Rhye could never be held accountable for his actions. Being the Queen's favorite son just made him too powerful.

"You are going to have three  _very_  lucky cellmates, Freddie. The permanent cells are the only rooms in this entire facility without any cameras. The rebels you're bunking with can do as they please with you, and no one will ever know. I wish I could protect you, but again, you've made your choice."

"I'm sure I'll get along just fine with my cellmates."  _So long as I'm far away from you._

"I know, but that doesn't mean I don't worry for you. You'll be sharing a room with the worst kind of rebels imaginable, and there's nothing I can do about it."

"If there's nothing you can do about it, then I might as well get it over with it." I prompted, rising to my feet, "I'm ready to face those rebels. Take me to them please."

"Not so fast." Paul placed his hands on my shoulders and pushed me back down onto the grubby floor. "You're not as prepared as you may think."

I recalled all the fans holding up signs reading "Ready Freddie" in my vision. I felt like smacking Paul's face with one of those signs to get the message across. Oh I was ready alright. Ready to get the hell away from him.

"First," Paul said, unveiling a new jumpsuit from the bag he was holding, "You need to change. There's a uniform requirement." The jumpsuit he was holding was identical to the one I had on now only the drab tan color was replaced by a drab gray color. A true upgrade would be something flashy and unique—like my sparkly leotard, or perhaps a bright yellow jacket. Yes! Big colors that would pop out. In a perfect world, I'd be able to wear whatever I wanted and explore many different styles.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Put it on!" Paul snapped his fingers at me like I was a dog of some sort. That trick only works with dogs by the way. Don't try it with cats, they won't listen to you. They demand to be treated with more respect, as did I.

"I'm not putting it on with you watching me, dear." I said.

"I'm not asking." Paul countered, "Freddie, I am not a person you want to challenge."

As I had told Jim last night, there wasn't a challenge in the world I refused to tackle. Paul would be no exception. What did I have to lose? I was already at my lowest point imaginable. Why would I bother degrading myself by undressing in front of him when I had nothing left to risk?

"What are you going to do if I don't listen to you? You can't send me to a rebel camp because now I'm here."

"Do you have any idea who I am? What kind of powers I have in my position? The Queen is at my beck and call." Paul shouted.

"Are you sure it's not the other way around? You seem like you're doing her dirty work."

For a second, I thought the sting across my cheek had come from my bracelet because I was so used to the shocks. However, the blow came from Paul's hand slapping my face. Shit! He just hit me, and pretty hard might I add. I trailed my hand across the impact and examined my fingers spotting some smeared blood. "You don't get to question my authority, Mercury! Do you understand me?" He growled.

Well that little plan of defiance backfired. Although I still had one thing working in my favor: the camera in the corner. If I could get Paul to do or say something damning on film, then maybe he could face some repercussions. It was a long shot considering his high powered status, but I decided to give it a go. "So, you're just going to beat me up if I don't do whatever you say? You know violence is a crime just like creative thought."

Paul snickered, following my gaze back at the camera. "As your party supervisor, I'm bound by a different set of rules. I took an oath to take absolutely every measure possible to stray you away from your rebellious lifestyle. So, if violence doesn't work to keep you in line, then I may have to resort to other means. With that in mind, I'm going to tell you again put your new uniform on."

I looked directly back into his sinister snakelike dark eyes. I could handle some torture if it meant showing him that he didn't control me. "Do your worst, Prenter."

"I don't need your signature. Put the uniform on now or I'll have you whisked away to surgery and you can kiss that sweet songbird voice of yours goodbye." He threatened.

"You're bluffing." He had to be. If my signature wasn't required, I would've been forced into the parameters of my contract against my will. Paul's bracelet was still flashing yellow as he began to tap it, deep in concentration. "What are you doing?" I asked nervously.

"Signaling the surgeons. Officers should be here any moment to escort you to the rebel medical center where you'll have your vocals cut from your throat. I can call them off of course. It's all about to you."

"You're lying." I decided.

"Do you really want to take that risk, Freddie?"

Checkmate! Paul had me cornered in his trap, and the ominous smirk on his face confirmed that I was right where he wanted me to be. "You win, you son of a bitch! Call them off if you really did signal them." I caved. I changed into the uniform as quickly as I possibly good so Paul couldn't get a satisfying look at my body.

"I knew you'd come around eventually." Paul said, petting my head affectionately, "By the way, you were right. I didn't signal them. We do need your signature to go forth with anything in your contract. However, I am allowed to lie to you if it gets you to cooperate."

"Thanks for telling me that, darling. Now I'll know never to trust a word that comes out of your mouth."

"I don't need your trust, Freddie. I just need you." Paul said, reaching out his arms as if to grab me, but I backed out of the way before he could touch me. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I screamed.

"One day you'll understand. You'll see what you mean to me."

As if even the smallest spasm of muscle would set him off, I was careful not to move from my spot on the other end of the cell, as far away from Paul as the confined space would allow. "Stay away from me!" I shouted as Paul strode toward me like a ravenous animal.

"You can't avoid me forever, Freddie. As your party supervisor, I have to meet with you in here on a weekly basis to track your progress."

"Progress toward what?"

"Rehabilitation of course. At the end of the year, you'll be up for parole. If you do as you're told and agree to sign your contract by then, you'll be set free." Paul explained.

"I'd rather die than sign that bloody thing. Isn't that why I'm here in the first place?"

"The reason why you're here is to get to you to change your mind. If you don't change your mind by the end of the year, we'll have no choice but flash freeze you." He stated this so calmly as if it were common practice.

"Do I even want to know what flash freezing is?"

"You'll be put in a comatose state, not quite dead, but not quite alive either. Believe me, I don't want to see you like that. It would hurt to watch you be reduced to nothing more than a vegetable." Paul said, "That's why I volunteered to be your party supervisor. I like you, Freddie, and I don't want anyone to take you from me. So for your own sake, you have to work with me."

"Are those my only two options? I either lose my voice or lose my voice along with the function of my entire body?" Did I really want to commit to the lesser of two evils and just accept vocal removal surgery? There really was no way out if that was my best option.

"This is where you're lucky to have me as your party supervisor. I know how special you are, and you don't deserve this, my little Persian. So, if I think you've been good, I may give you a third option at the end of the year." Paul said.

"And what would that be?" I asked not expecting it to be any better than my first two choices.

"You have to behave first. Then I'll let you know."

There was still no way in hell I'd ever trust Paul. However, he had placed me in a position in which I had no choice but to listen to him. "What do you want from me?"

"I think we've had enough fun for one night. Just do as you're told until it's time for us to meet again next week. I expect obedience when I see you again."

"You'll get it." I said, feeling completely defeated, "Whatever it takes to keep my voice."

"See, Freddie, isn't it so much easier when you just comply?" He said with a wide grin, "Now, let me request one thing of you before I take you to your permanent cell. In this bag, you'll find some notebooks. You need to fill them with your observations of the other rebels and their behaviors. If you see or hear anything suspicious, write it down. Report any crimes committed. Do you understand?"

"You want me to snitch?"

"Believe me the others would sell you out given the chance." Paul said as he unlocked the bars and guided me down the long dingy hallway, "You should've heard the things Roger and Brian had to say about you when we interrogated them. They spilled all your secrets. It didn't even take much torture."

Again, I couldn't trust him, but I knew that Roger was here. I had seen him get taken away. So Paul could be telling the truth about this. "You have Brian?"

"We caught him last night in his little rebel sanctuary. It didn't take much prodding. He easily gave up the names of everyone associated with his stunt, including you."

"Brian wouldn't do that." I convinced myself. If it came down to Paul or Brian I would no doubt take Brian's word.

"He talked all about a certain song you wrote of yours." Paul continued, "Mama, I Just Killed a Man is what he called it I believe."

How would Paul know about my Bohemian Rhapsody? The only way would be if Brian or Roger had told him. They were my friends. Would they really do that to me?

"You need to really consider who the true enemy here is, Freddie." Paul rambled, "Perhaps you need a bit of a reminder. When the world wide terrorists dropped bombs all across earth to end the world, what was the one kingdom that was spared?"

"Rhye." I answered.

"And why was it spared?"

"Because of the artificial sky. It blocked the blow from the bombs."  _That still doesn't make it right to hide the real sky._

"And why have we achieved world peace?"

"Because Rhye rescued the survivors of the war by offering them refuge and tracked down the terrorists to stop the bombings." I summed up. I was alive because of the Rhye army. That much I couldn't deny.

"Very good." Paul praised, "Remember that you owe us a great deal, Freddie. Your loyalty should be to me and not these rebels."

We came to a halt at a large steel door that could be intimidating to some but for me it was a life saver. I wanted nothing more than to be on the other side of that door so I could finally be rid of Paul even if it was only for a week. I couldn't help but feel relieved when Paul unlocked the door.

"If you need anything at all, please signal me with your bracelet. I'll see you soon, my little Persian." Paul leaned inward as if to kiss me. I instinctively pushed back against the door. Much to my surprise, it gave way, and I fell backward into the room. "Don't dodge me again, Mercury!" Paul shouted and slammed the door right in my face.

I hadn't realized that I was hyperventilating until I heard the sound of my own short breaths and saw my chest rising and falling rapidly. Stunned from that nightmarish encountered, I remained on the floor. Right as I composed myself, I was suddenly tackled. I blinked, trying to take everything in. Roger Taylor was embracing me in the tightest hug I had ever received. Sitting crosslegged by the bunkbeds, Brian and John were staring at Roger's enthusiastic reaction to my arrival as if he were completely mad. I didn't blame them. Roger's arms were secured around me so firmly I could barely breathe.

"I fucking knew it!" he shouted, "Didn't I tell you guys Freddie was coming?"

"Jesus, Rog! Give the man some space. You're smothering him." Brian reprimanded.

"Oh," he released me, "Sorry, Fred. I guess I got a little carried away. I like the haircut by the way."

"It's good to see you again, Freddie." Brian said, "But I am sorry you have to be here."

"It's alright." I exhaled and calmed myself, "I'm just glad I'm not rooming with strangers."  _Or Paul._

"So that's it then?" John asked tentatively, "No more cellmates? It's just the four of us."

"Well there's only four beds." I noted, observing the others' bags on their claimed beds. "I guess I'm stuck with a bottom bunk."

"You are the smallest of us, so it seems fair." Roger said, "I'm also in a bottom bunk, so if I have to suffer, you should too."

Besides Brian who was much taller, we were all roughly the same height. By a slim margin, I was the shortest of the group. I knew Roger was only teasing, so I didn't argue with him.

"You can trade with me." John offered, "I don't mind having a bottom bunk."

"No. Don't be silly, Deaky, dear. I'm fine."

John gasped when I called him Deaky. "You know me too?"

Oh right. I forgot our introduction had been through a hallucination. We hadn't formally met yet. How was I going to explain that to him without sounding completely mad?

"Before I received my contract, I was given a shot that made me hallucinate. I had a vision of us in a band together. You were our bass player."

"You too?" Roger asked excitedly, "So it's true then. You really do approve of my song!"

"Please, Freddie, set some things straight for him." Brian said, "Ever since Roger got here he's been raving about how in his vision you were obsessed with this asinine song he wrote. He said you claimed it was so good you couldn't even sing it well enough and he had to sing it for you."

"It must be one heck of a song then." I laughed, "I don't think we had the same vision."

"Come on! You must remember. It was our most popular song." Roger insisted.

"If it was our most popular song, I would most likely be the one singing it. So, tell me about this brilliant song."

"It's a love song about his car." Brian blurted making me and Deaky burst into laughter.

"For the last time, Brian, it's a metaphor!" Roger pouted.

"I'm in Love With my Car sounds pretty direct. How could that possibly be a metaphor?" Brian countered.

"No, it makes sense," I said, after catching my breath from laughing so hard, "I would never want to sing that song, so I would just let Roger have his fun with it."

"You guys are the worst!" Roger exclaimed flinging his pillow at me. I threw my pillow back at him in retaliation.

"It's going to be a long 20 hours." John sighed.

I didn't respond to this, but my open mouthed smile unashamed of my teeth spoke for me. After all of this turmoil and my chilling encounter with Paul, I needed my friends now more than ever. I couldn't be more pleased with this rooming arrangement.

"Let's finish our game." Brian said, "Freddie, we're playing Scrabble if you want to join us."

Sprawled on the floor was a makeshift Scrabble board made completely out of notebook paper and tiles ripped from the paper as well. Such detailed work told me we would indeed be spending a very long time in here. The only thing that bothered me was the smell of a rotting corpse diffused throughout the room, but it was better than being confined in a cell with Paul.

"Scrabble gives us something to do while we wait for Bowie to write us back." Roger explained, handing me a letter from someone going by the name David Bowie, "We can communicate with our neighbors through letters in the air vents. Isn't that brilliant?"

Now a new problem arose. What was I going to write down? Paul expected a notebook full of exposing secrets for next week. I could never bring myself to endanger my friends, and I was pretty sure Paul was lying about Brian and Roger ratting on me. Focusing on the game, I relinquished all other thoughts for now.

"Deaks, it's your turn." Brian prompted.

John added the letters 'ce' to an 'a' creating the word 'ace'. The triple word slot gave him plenty of points for his small word. "I think that actually puts me in the lead." John beamed. "Good job, Deaky!" I told him as I examined the board for possible strategies of my own.

"My turn." Brian said, using the 'ace' to spell out the word 'acetaminophen.' "Now I'm back in the lead."

"Fuck you, Brian! You're cheating somehow." Roger shouted.

I used the dictionary on my bracelet to look up the word finding that it did indeed exist. "It's a drug that treats headaches. I don't know how you could ever possibly know that, darling, but the rules are the rules. You're back in the lead."

"This game is stupid anyway!" Roger declared. He attempted to storm off but realized there was nowhere to go, so he paced around the room before venturing into the partitioned area, which was probably the bathroom.

"Don't be such a sore loser!" Brian called to him.

John and I both looked up when Roger didn't shoot back with his typical combative argument. He was too quiet. Something was wrong. "I'll go check on him." I decided.

Roger was standing with his back to me motionless. The last time I saw him this rigid was when he had received his contract and made his decision not to sign. It couldn't possibly be something that dire again eliciting his bizarre behavior. Then I noticed the shower curtains spread open revealing the hanging body of a dead man. Well that explained where the smell was coming from.

I hate to leave you with such a grisly image, darlings, but I think you'll find it more comforting to be back in ignorance with Brian and Deaky who have yet to make this horrid discovery. You've been hearing too much from me lately anyway. I'll be back to narrate more chapters later after you've caught up with my friends. See you soon, lovies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the boys are finally all together…along with a dead body! I think the next chapter will be in Brian’s POV seeing as he is the Scrabble champion and we haven’t heard from him in a while.


	9. Don't Try Suicide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian's party supervisor, Miami, pays a visit to the boys. Brian and John get assigned their job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 500 hits, what can I say? I love it when you guys comment and leave kudos! Please continue. Thank you so much! 
> 
> Warning: This chapter contains a brief depiction of suicide that could be triggering. Reader discretion is advised.

_Brian's POV_

"You're both being really quiet. Is everything alright?" I called.

"Freddie, Roger?" John voiced when I got no response.

We gave each other confused glances before silently agreeing to get up and go check on our friends. John was the first to scream at the ghastly sight behind the shower curtains of a man hanging with the shower chord wrapped around his neck like a noose. Freddie and Roger were frozen, and I just looked away, not sure what to do. There was dead man in our shower! Of course I wanted this to be some sort of sick, twisted prank, but taking in the smell and sight, it was impossible to deny.

"What do we do?" Roger finally spoke.

They all turned to me. Why was I in charge? Roger was the one who found the man. As calmly as I could, I worked through a solution. "Well...we shouldn't leave him hanging there." Untying him would be a good start. No one moved.

"Go on, darling." Freddie prompted looking at me.

"Why do I have to do it?"

"You'll probably have the easiest time reaching him." John reasoned.

"Fine, but you all owe me."

"You can do it, Bri!" Roger encouraged as I reluctantly approached the corpse. Holding my breath, I reached up to untie the shower chord. Seconds later, I realized I should have thought things through better because the body flopped down onto the hard shower floor nearly smacking against me in the process. Why didn't I take gravity into account? I was always reading smuggled physics textbooks, so I should be able to apply what I had learned to real life situations. Freddie screamed and John vomited the moment the body hit the ground. I was also feeling quite queasy and Roger was turning green. Decaying bodies are never pretty to encounter, and I pray you never have the experience.

"Now what?" Freddie asked shakily.

"He left a note!" Roger noticed, picking up the paper discarded on the shower floor by the cadaver's feet. We all gathered around to peruse the man's frightening final words.

_'I am getting out today, but only because I sold out my friends. Officers stormed into our room and took all three of them away kicking and screaming. Then, the officers thanked me for my party loyalty and told me that I have succeeded and will be up for parole. I know my friends are flash frozen because of me. I cannot live with what I did even if I am getting out today.'_

"Suicide." I whispered.

"Oh God!" John choked.

"I say we make a pact now." Roger determined, "We don't rat on each other, and we try to stay sane in the process. No self harm, alright. Keep ourselves alive. Can we do that?"

"We can help each other get through this." I agreed, "We fill the notebooks with lies to protect each other, and we come to each other if we need help."

John was in tears, and Freddie's normally tanned face had gone nearly as pale as the corpse's. Roger and I waited patiently for them to calm down before they agreed as well. It was surprising how well we were all handling this. Perhaps it was the initial shock, and reality had not yet taken its toll.

"We need to trust each other." John said eventually.

Still huddled in a group, we all eyed each other as if to confirm that we'd work as a team from now on. Then, Freddie broke eye contact, looking down anxiously. "I-I want to trust you, darlings. I really do." he said.

"But?" I assumed was where he was going with this.

"But Paul knows about Bohemian Rhapsody."

When we all gave him quizzical stares, Freddie clarified. "My song." He began to sing, " _Mama, just killed a man—_ You know the one I sang for you."

"You're calling it Bohemian Rhapsody?" Roger asked.

"What I'm calling it isn't important. The point is Paul knows about it, and the only way he could've found out was if either you or Brian told him."

"Damn, Prenter is good." I muttered, realizing exactly how the prince had discovered Freddie's song. I recalled the moment I had arrived at the rebel camp.

' _I opened my eyes, knowing exactly where I was before the world became clear. Still shocked and angered by Tim's betrayal, I strategized my best tactics on how to escape. To be expected, I was in a prison cell. There was someone on the other side of the bars watching me._

_"Mr. May, do you know where you are?" The man asked._

_"In a rebel camp." I stated._

_"That's correct. I'm your party supervisor, Jim Beach. Do you know why you're here?"_

_Let's see...I engaged in creative thought through music, illegally overturned an abandoned museum into a rebel lounge, encouraged other rebels to be musicians and even participated in a rock band, ran an underground rebel community through anonymous letters, smuggled countless banned items, and continued to study science despite the ban on exploration. That was just to name a few of the things I had done over the years. "No idea."_

_"You overturned an abandoned site slated for demolition into a rebel haven. We have managed to track down nearly everyone who participated in your heinous activities, but we are still missing a few possible contenders. When you were arrested, we confiscated a lyric sheet. It was a song about confessing a murder to one's mother and saying goodbye. Do you have any idea who those lyrics belong to?"_

_"I don't know what you're talking about." I said calmly. My tranquil demeanor would work wonders for interrogation. No one would suspect a thing as I would never crack under pressure._

_"Well, we had the lyric sheet transferred to Prince Prenter. He'll be able to scan it and match it to the creative signals given off by bracelets all across Rhye. Eventually he'll find a match. In the meantime, you could make his life a lot easier if you were to tell us upfront who wrote it." Beach pushed._

_"I told you I don't know." There was no way he'd be able to sort through all of those signals and match it directly to Freddie._

_"I believe you." Beach said, "I only had to ask because Prince Prenter was so interested in this particular case. Anyway, let me tell you how you can redeem yourself and be eligible for parole in a year from now...'_

"Paul told me that you gave my name away!" Freddie scoffed, "I should've known better. You all have my trust now. Please forgive me for being so gullible."

"It's okay, Freddie." I assured him, "As long as we all trust each other now."

"Yes, yes. Trust is good and all, but there's still the matter of the dead guy on the floor." Roger pointed out, giving the body a small kick, "What are we going to do?"

"I'll just have to signal my party supervisor Jim Beach and see if there's anything he can do to help." I decided, "He did say to reach out if I needed anything."

"Jim Beach." Freddie echoed, "What kind of name is Jim Beach?"

"Hide the scrabble papers and Bowie's letter." I instructed as I used my bracelet to signal for my party supervisor. Roger and Brian went to collect the loose papers as Freddie paced across the room muttering to himself about Jim Beach. When the said man arrived, Freddie stopped dead in his tracks. "Miami!" He proclaimed, his hand waving in the air wildly.

"W-what?" Beach laughed nervously as Freddie pointed to him. "I dub you Miami Beach! That is your new name."

"Don't mind Freddie. He's just crazy." Roger said.

"Freddie?" Miami asked, his eyes widening.

"Yes, that is me, darling. The one and only, Freddie Mercury." He bowed dramatically making me roll my eyes. I opened my mouth to speak, but Roger interrupted me by jumping up to get directly in Miami's face. John gave me a small nod with a knowing look in his eyes as if to say "welcome to my world".

Roger held his hand out and introduced himself to Miami. I could only imagine what was going through the poor party supervisor's head right now dealing with such loonies. "I'm Roger Taylor. Is there any chance you could be my party supervisor instead of Ray Foster? The man's an absolute blockhead."

"Look, I'm here because Brian signaled." Miami spoke up, "I'm  _his_ party supervisor. I don't mind hearing from you guys, but I'm here for Brian, and—Why does it smell like something died in here?"

"Because the person residing in this room before us committed suicide." I finally got a word in, "That's why I signaled you."

Miami gasped. "I'm so sorry. I really don't know why we don't inspect empty cells before we assign rebels to them. I'll take care of it right away."

Without complaining, Miami had the body heaved away, cleaned our shower, and provided us with lemon scented air fresheners. He didn't even ask for our help. Before any of us could thank him, Miami announced, "Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back with some presents for you boys for having to deal with this mess."

"You really lucked out, Bri. Ray is the worst. I wish I had Miami assigned to me." Roger said.

"Believe me, anyone is better than Paul." Freddie whispered.

"Prince Paul is your party supervisor?" I cried in disbelief. What business did the prince have taking on a remedial job like this? I recalled Miami mentioning that Paul was particularly interested in tracking down the writer of Bohemian Rhapsody, and clearly he had succeeded in his quest to detain Freddie's bracelet signal from the scan.

Before I could consider it further, Miami returned as promised with a goodie bag and began to pass out gifts to all four of us like Santa Claus. He began with me. "Brian, here's a bottle of shampoo made specifically for curly hair." I had been using the generic kind of shampoo for as long as I could remember. I didn't think it would make a difference, but I thanked him anyway. I was caught off guard by Miami's charity. This was just so unexpected. There had to be some sort of a catch. Was Miami trying to buy our party loyalty?

"Roger," he moved onto the drummer, "I don't have anything tangible for you, but I promise I will have you transferred from Ray Foster's watch to mine by next week."

"Miami, you are my new favorite party member!" Roger exclaimed.

"Can I ask for the same favor, Miami, dear?" Freddie requested, "I'd much rather be on your watch than Prince Prenter's."

"I wish I could, Freddie, but as you know Prince Prenter is a lot more powerful than Ray Foster. He's not someone I can override. I'm sorry."

Freddie nodded sadly. "I understand, darling."

"But I do have something for you." Miami said unveiling what looked like a pen. Well there had to be more to the gift than that for Freddie to get so excited. He hopped up and down and threw his arms around the party supervisor. "Oh thank you, thank you, Miami! You are a godsend, my dear!"

"We have a whole basket of confiscated eyeliners from the girls' rebel camp. I figured no one would notice if one of them went missing." Miami winked.

"Yes, but how in the world did you manage to find my exact color? This isn't just standard black, it's charcoal." Freddie raved.

"Lucky guess." Miami said dismissively.

I believed it was more than just a coincidence. There was something suspicious about all of these gifts. I just couldn't figure out what Miami's motives were.

"Don't think I've forgotten about you, John." Miami said, bestowing his final present to our quiet bassist. "These are noise-cancelling earplugs. I know it can be difficult for an introvert to room with three clashing personalities. If you ever need to take a break from it all, just put these in."

"Thanks, Miami. You can call me Deaky." John accepted the gift without question just like the other three.

"Would you like to be added to my watch as well, Deaky? Reid is much more approachable than some of the other party supervisors, so I would understand if you'd like to stay with him."

"I think I want to be on your watch, Miami. You seem to be the only one around here who treats us human." John remarked.

It appeared as though I was the only one unconvinced that Miami was simply doing all these favors to be nice. He knew too much. Noticing my hair was one thing, but finding Freddie's preferred eyeliner and recognizing John as an introvert without knowing anything about him was just too convenient.

"If you need anything else, please don't hesitate to ask." Miami said, "I'll have my contact added to your bracelets."

"Come back and visit us anytime, Miami!" Freddie said, "Don't be a stranger, darling."

"You take care of yourself, Freddie." Miami took on a stern tone as he patted Freddie on the back, "I really mean that. Stay strong."

"Don't worry about me, dear. I'll be alright."

"Anyway," Miami turned back to say his final farewell to the rest of us, "Breakfast should be arriving soon. Goodbye boys!"

"Bye!" Freddie Roger and John said in unison.

"Odd." I muttered as Miami left us alone.

"I like him!" Freddie declared.

"Anyone who gets me away from Ray Foster is a friend of mine." Roger decided.

John just nodded as he went to put the earplugs securely in the knapsack on his bed. So none of them felt suspicious. Perhaps I was just paranoid, but there had to be more to it than that...

"Does your shampoo have a nice scent?" Freddie pulled me out of my thoughts. He joined the others back by the bed as they redistributed the Scrabble papers. The partition kept me out of view as I examined the shampoo bottle in my hands. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary, and Freddie was probably expecting an answer. I uncapped the bottle to put it up to my nose, but I gasped when I found it was empty. In the place of shampoo was a rolled up piece of paper.

Miami had left me a message. I unraveled the paper. ' _I'm on your side. Keep the songbird happy, and the New Order crumbles.'_

"Brian?" Freddie called.

"Um...yeah, it smells like apples." I blurted, stuffing the message back into the shampoo bottle.

What could that possibly mean? If Miami was on our side, then he likely expected me to decipher his code. Keep the songbird happy. Was the songbird a person? Could it be one of us? We were all musicians.

"Bri, come on! We're starting a new game." Roger shouted.

I was tempted to tell the others about my discovery as I joined them. Maybe they could help me unravel this puzzle. Although I still couldn't be too sure that Miami was trustworthy. What if this was a trap? As songbirds, garnering our happiness through music put us in grave danger. Did Miami want to catch us in the act of forming an illegal band? On the other hand, it could be nothing more than words of encouragement from an undercover rebel. Don't give into the rules, keep doing what makes you happy, and that will make the New Order lose its effectiveness.

"Your turn, Brian." Roger prompted.

Haphazardly, I just arranged three tiles to form "the" while my mind continued to ponder through all the possibilities of what Miami's note meant.

"Now you're just letting us win, aren't you, darling? That just takes the fun out of things." Freddie pouted.

"Nope. It's still fun if I get to win." Roger said.

I admired how carefree my friends could be even when placed in such a dreadful situation. After all, it wasn't too long ago that we were all staring at the body of a hanging corpse. Now suddenly we were all engaging in a frivolous game of Scrabble as if nothing had even happened. I prided myself on always staying calm and relying on reason to get me out of tricky situations. However, right now I wished there was a way to get the wheels in my head to stop turning for a few moments so I could just relax and have some fun. Either way, I knew I wouldn't be able to think straight until I solved this songbird code.

As John placed his paper tiles down, a loud clack interrupted our game. That sounded like the door unlocking. Roger quickly discarded all of the papers by kicking them beneath his bed. If any officers did a thorough search of the room the hiding spot wouldn't suffice, but for now it would have to work. Thankfully, the papers were concealed by the time Ray Foster opened the door.

"Unfortunately, we can't let you freaks starve in here." Ray said with a scowl as he delivered us trays of food. Now I understood why Roger complained. This man was far from delightful to say the least. We were given a very small plateful of toast alongside bacon, eggs, and sausage. I picked at the toast, not wanting to touch any of the animal products which took up the majority of the already scanty portion.

As the last of us to receive a meal, Roger reached out to take accept tray, but Ray purposefully let the platter slip out of his fingers and spill all over the floor. "Oops." He chortled and walked out the door, giving it a hard slam shut.

"I hate that asshole!" Roger shouted.

"Here, have mine." I offered, "I just want the toast anyway."

"Thanks, Bri." He took the plate, "Are you sure you don't want any of this? We can share you know."

"Didn't I ever tell you I was a vegetarian?"

Just like that, the room got very quiet as if I had confessed to a sin. What was the big deal? Was it wrong to be opposed to animal cruelty?

"So you just don't eat meat?" Freddie asked, "My God, darling, how can you survive like that?"

"It's really not that bad. I think it's worth it to save the lives of innocent animals."

"I love animals too, but not enough to give up meat." Freddie remarked.

"You have a lot of willpower, you crazy herbivore." Roger laughed.

John was polite enough not to say anything, but he still flashed me a judgmental look as he chomped down on his bacon. I thought nothing of it and just ate my toast in silence. Besides, I was still too focused on the songbird puzzle to invest myself in my friend's thoughts on vegetarianism.

"I miss being able to eat whatever I want." John sighed, "I used to melt cheese on my toast, and it tasted so good! The plain toast they give us just isn't the same."

"How can you not eat cheese, Brian?" Roger blurted, "What kind of a monster doesn't eat cheese?"

"I eat cheese. I'm a vegetarian, not a vegan." I clarified.

"There's no bloody difference." Roger argued.

"Actually, there is a difference, you see—"

Once again, I was interrupted this time by Ray Foster who decided to barge in on us for an additional visit. Roger voiced his opinion on Ray's intrusion loud and clear by flinging a sausage at his face. I couldn't help it, I laughed along with the others. Who says the most mature band member can't slip into childlike silliness from time to time?

"Perfect aim!" Freddie laughed as Ray removed the meat from his nose.

"Oops." Roger mocked.

"I'll make you regret that, Taylor." Ray threatened.

He lingered in the threshold and continued to give Roger the death stare. Was this all he came to do? All I knew was that if I didn't intervene Roger would wind up doing something stupid like punching Ray's lights out.

"Can we help you?" I demanded.

"That is no way to speak to a party supervisor! You rebels need to learn to respect your superiors!"

"You're not our superior. Miami is our party supervisor, not you, so we don't have to answer to you." I stated calmly.

"Yeah. So either bring us more food or get the fuck out!" Roger shouted.

"Who the bloody hell is Miami?" Ray asked.

"Miami is the only friend we have amongst you rats." Freddie said.

Ray turned to him, scratching his beard. "You're Prenter's toy, aren't you? The singer he's obsessed with? Boy, let me tell you the prince has plans for you!"

Freddie went quiet with that remark, shuddering slightly. Why was Paul so intrigued by Freddie? Could it have anything to do with this songbird conundrum?

"May, Deacon, get your asses up! It's time for your work shift." Ray shouted distracting me from the mystery. Ah so that was why Ray decided to return. He was going to escort me and John to our shift.

"Good luck." Roger said as John and I stood up.

"I can't promise you I'll have them back in here in one piece at the end of their shift." Ray chuckled as he ushered us out the door. John whimpered when Ray forced the door shut with a loud bang. "We'll be okay, Deaky." I whispered. He swallowed and nodded saying nothing more as we followed Ray down the hallway.

"You two will be working with other rebels in the incineration center destroying collected contraband." Ray explained.

Out of nowhere, John stopped dead in his tracks. I had to forcefully drag him down the hall so Ray wouldn't notice. "Deaks, you have to pull yourself together." I hissed.

"W-what if he's there?" John squeaked softly.

"Who? What are you talking about?"

"Here we are!" Ray announced as we reached steel double doors at the end of the long hallway. The closest I had been to an incineration center was the outside where I would hand my bags of collected contraband to officers waiting outside. Until today I hadn't a clue that the incineration centers were connected to the rebel camps. We entered a large room resembling a warehouse with piles of bags and boxes containing all sorts of contraband stacked high enough to touch the ceiling. In the back of the room was a conveyer belt leading into a furnace. "Await further instructions. Be sure to smile because you're on camera. So don't try anything dumb." Ray said before leaving us in this cold environment.

"I-I can't do this." John choked.

"What has gotten into you, Deaky? They're probably going to have sort through everything and put things on the conveyer belt to be melted. It won't be bad at all. I promise."

"No, the job is fine...It's the other rebels. I-I can't face him again." John blinked back tears.

"Tell me who you're talking about. Otherwise I can't help you."

"When I was fifteen..." John started in a small voice, he took a deep breath, "I was um, caught by an officer being out after curfew. He said he wouldn't report me...if-if—"

The double doors opened again, and several groups of rebels wandered in escorted by party supervisors telling them to await further instruction. John visibly relaxed as he observed the newcomers. Supportively, I stayed by John's side while all the others conversed. "Remember what Ray said." I reminded him, "There are cameras everywhere. If someone tries to hurt you, they'll regret it." ' _I'll make them regret it.'_ I thought darkly.

"Brian, I think they're talking about you." John said.

Looking up, I noticed that all the rebels were glancing in my direction and pointing at me every so often. A few faces I recognized from the streets of my watchlist neighborhood. They must have gotten caught as well. "He's not here, Bri, I'm okay. Let's go mingle." John insisted. He still stuck close to me as we joined the group. I greeted those I already knew and introduced myself to the strangers, surprised to find that most knew me or at least knew of my reputation. Word of "the tall, curly haired guitarist" evidently traveled fairly quickly through the air vents.

"Hello, Brian." A striking man with reddish dirty blonde hair addressed me. He had blue eyes, but one appeared somewhat darker than the other. "We've been exchanging letters. I'm David Bowie."

"It's good to finally meet you, David." I said, "Did your cellmates ever arrive?"

"Only one so far, but I like him. His name is Elton John, and we seem to be getting along just fine so far. Apparently they're keeping incoming rebels in solitary after the discovery of a dead body in someone's room, so it may be just the two of us for a while. In your letter you also said you were alone. Did your cellmates arrive?"

In a way that was both cute and awkward, John stepped forward. "I'm one of his cellmates. Hi, I'm John, but you can call me Deaky."

"There's two others, but they're not here. So far everything is alright with us. We haven't killed each other yet." I said.

"I think you'd get along well with our friend, Freddie." John told Bowie, "Maybe one day we could all write a song together."

It was nice to see John come out of shell especially after witnessing his meltdown on the way over here. I let the two chat some more when I was pulled aside by another person who wanted to speak to me after confirming that I was Brian May. This man was not in good shape, one of his brown eyes was swollen and blackened, and his mustache wasn't enough to distract from his broken nose.

"This is a long shot," he said in an Irish accent, "but do you know Freddie Mercury?"

"I do. He's my cellmate believe it or not."

His good eye lit up with excitement. "Is he okay? Is he hurt?"

"No, he's fine. Well, I think we're all shaken up a bit considering the circumstance, but other than that Freddie's alright." I said, not expecting to be hugged in response. "Oh thank God!" he said as he pulled away from me.

"Yes, Freddie's okay." I confirmed as I watched him revel in the good news. Whoever this man was he certainly cared a lot for Freddie. His smiled faded when he considered something else. "He still has his angel voice, right? They didn't take that from him?"

"What—" I stopped myself when it seemed to click. Freddie hadn't discussed his contract with us. Now it made sense how he ended up here. I knew better than to ask.

"Freddie wouldn't let them do anything to his voice." I assured him.

"That's all I wanted to know. Thank you, Brian. I won't bother you anymore."

"Wait!" I called to him as him as he turned to walk away, "Do you want me to give Freddie a message for you?"

"Could you please? Just let him know that I'm here and I'm alright, and no matter what lies Prenter tells him, I didn't spill anything when he interrogated me. I'll always be loyal to my darling."

Again with the prince and Freddie. What was I missing? Curiosity got the best of me and I found myself asking. "Did Paul give you those bruises when you didn't throw Freddie under the bus?"

Ashamed, he looked down. "I'm afraid he did. Don't tell Freddie that. I don't want him to feel guilty."

"I'll just let him know that you're here and always loyal." I said before realizing that Freddie would have no clue who I was referring to. "Sorry. I didn't catch your name."

"Jim Hutton. I'm um Freddie's...friend." He sounded so unsure of his status. What else could he be besides a friend or relative?

I wondered if Jim would know anything about the songbird. It all seemed to trace back to Freddie and Paul, and Jim was clearly connected to that story. Although I don't want to bore you with my continued over analysis of Miami's message. Maybe you should hear from John again now that he's become a little social butterfly with our new friend Bowie. I think that will be of more interest to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully I didn't offend any vegans or people with lactose intolerance. Cheese is great though! On a more serious note, next chapter might be a bit heavier as Deaky may encounter his rapist. I know we haven't heard from Roger in a long time, but I think I want to write more about Deaky first. Stay tuned.


	10. Liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John stands up to his rapist. Miami is not what he appears to be...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again for all of your kudos, hits and comments! Keep it up! I will try to keep updating every few days, but school starts again on Monday, so updates will eventually slow down because school is very time consuming.
> 
> Warning: This chapter deals with rape and could be triggering to some. Reader discretion is advised.

_John’s POV_

For once in my life I was popular. As soon as I confirmed that the person I was dreading to encounter was not in the group, I had calmed down significantly. Bowie was very sweet and eager to introduce me to his rebel friends, and from there I officially felt welcomed. It turned out there was nothing to be afraid of as most of the rebels were sent here for a variety of relatable reason—mostly denying their contracts, engaging in creative thought, or smuggling something as innocent as an old Beatles album. Mentioning the Beatles delved us into the discussion of rumors we had heard of what had happened to the Beatles since the New Order was put in place. They were only the biggest band in the world, so the move to make music illegal probably didn’t sit well with them. Their sudden disappearance always stirred up much speculation. “I heard they’ve all been flash frozen.” “I thought John Lennon’s soulmate, Yoko, turned them all in, and they’re just doing their time in quietly in a rebel camp.”

“Well, Bri, you’ve probably got some inside information, right?” I turned back expecting to see Brian still standing behind me. It turned out that I was so caught up in my new social life that I didn’t even realize that Brian had left me to fend for myself. I spotted him in the corner talking to someone else. They were the only two separated from the group. Hmm.

“I’ll be right back.” I told my new friends.

“Hurry back, Deaky.” Bowie encouraged.

I approached Brian and this stranger surprised by how bold I was being today. Maybe this rebel lifestyle was finally starting to influence me. The man Brian was conversing with was badly beaten with a black eye and broken nose. I felt sorry for the fellow.

“Deaks, there you are!” Brian acknowledged, “You don’t seem too shy anymore. I saw you talking to everyone over there.” He sounded like a proud parent which was kind of amusing. Was I really as pathetic as a little kid? I decided to take it as a compliment because Brian was always so considerate.

I nodded. “Bowie was nice.”

“That’s good. I’m glad you’re making friends and feeling better. You were scaring me earlier with whatever you were trying to tell me. Anyway, speaking of friends, this is Jim. He knows Freddie.”

“I’m Deaky—I mean John—I mean what happened to your face?” I blurted awkwardly. Shoot! That was not what I meant to say nor how I meant to say it. Thankfully, Jim didn’t seem to take offense. “Prince Prenter interrogated me, and when I didn’t give the answers he wanted to hear, I’m afraid he got a little creative with his tactics.”

I shuddered at the thought of being tortured to reveal information. I wanted to believe that I’d never undermine my friends’ trust no matter what happened to me, but now I questioned if I was strong enough to withstand physical torment.

“What did Paul want to know about Freddie if you don’t mind me asking?” Brian inquired.

“A lot of it was irrelevant—mainly his ancestry and love life.” Jim recalled, “Then, of course, he really wanted to know if I’ve ever heard Freddie’s legendary singing voice. I lied straight through my teeth and…well the bruises speak for themselves.”

“If you covered for Freddie, then how did you end up here? You would’ve been deemed a non threat and likely sent to a watchlist neighborhood like me and my mother.” Brian wondered.

“I was caught on camera engaging in some physically intimate acts with someone other than my soulmate.” Jim admitted, his face flushing, “Prenter gave me an ultimatum: Either rat on Freddie or be sent here for my minor infraction.”

His decision was obvious as he stood here with us. Freddie was blessed to have such a dear and loyal friend. “You’re so brave.” I complimented, “Does Freddie know?”

“We’re going to let him know.” Brian said.

Jim opened his mouth to say something, but the double doors opened once again. Brian cursed under his breath when his former bandmate Tim Staffell burst into the room. However, I couldn’t focus on Tim because all l could see was the man accompanying him. Everyone and everything else faded into the background, becoming nothing more than a blur.

‘ _“Stop!” The officer grabbed me by the wrist as I tried to run. I knew this meant the end of the world. Being out after curfew was nothing more than a minor infraction, but if the officer discovered where I was going, then I was truly in deep trouble. Fearfully, I looked up and met malevolent dark eyes. The officer—Shane, I made out from his name tag—tightened his grip. No doubt his firm grasp would leave marks. “Y-you’re hurting me! Let me go!” I cried._

_“What are you doing out here all by yourself after curfew?” Shane purred in a chilling deep voice, “Don’t you know that’s an infraction? I’m going to have to report you.”_

_“I’m sorry.” I stammered._

_“Tell me where you were going.” He demanded._

_“Home.” I lied._

_“Liar!” He spat, “The residences are in the opposite direction. The only thing up this way is that abandoned museum. Were you going there, you little rebel?”_

_“N-No!” I sobbed, “Please…please don’t report me.”_

_“Stop crying! I won’t report you.” Shane’s devilish smirk was something straight out of a horror film. His bracelet was flashing a bright yellow, not the usual pink red or blue. I wasn’t sure what to make of that._

_“I promise I won’t report you if you do one little thing for me.” Shane whispered._

_Too stunned to fight back or even comprehend what was happening to me, I found myself painfully shoved to the ground with Shane on top of me. I shut my tearstained eyes as he forced himself into me and brutally thrusted back and forth. I just waited in agony for the nightmare to be over._

_“Thanks for that, honey. You have yourself a good night.” He had the audacity to chuckle as he left me all alone trembling and bawling on the street.’_

I stifled back a scream and hid behind Brian before Shane’s haunting gaze could detect me. Although I knew it was hopeless. My tall friend provided a nice barrier, but Shane would probably see me eventually.

“Alright!” Tim shouted, “Returning inmates, you know the drill, get to work! Newbies, listen up because I’m only going to explain this once.”

“What the hell happened to you, Tim?” Brian whispered.

“Shut the fuck up, May, you rebel son of a bitch! As I was saying here’s how this job works. You go through each bag and box and put the items one at a time on the slots of the conveyer belt. As you go, you will remove the item’s tag and scan it so it can be registered as destroyed.” Tim demonstrated with a tube of toothpaste. I had no clue why that was considered contraband, but I had much more important things to deal with. I remained still as a statue in the hopes that lack of movement would somehow make me invisible. “The furnace will overload if too many things go in at time, so make sure you only have one item per slot. Don’t fuck it up! You’ll work until the furnace reaches its capacity, which is usually around 200 items, depending on their size. Any questions?”

“Yes. What do you have against oral hygiene?” Bowie criticized, referring to the lost toothpaste.

“It was peppermint flavored instead of traditional mint.” Tim explained, “You know what the party stands for. There can be no variations in anything because diversity leads to conflict. That is how we achieved world peace—we standardized everything, so there is no greed or corruption. Everything and everyone is completely equal. That makes for a fair and happy society.”

I couldn’t believe this was the same man I watched perform with Brian and Roger countless nights at the club. Whatever Tim’s contract made him do, it definitely succeeded in having him brainwashed by party propaganda.

“As some of you may know.” Tim looked directly at Brian, “I used to be one of you pathetic pieces of shit. In fact, I was a rockstar. Can you believe how misguided I was? Receiving my contract allowed me to see the light, and I hope that someday all of you will be transformed into proper party workers as well. Even you, May, although I don’t think there’s much hope for you.”

“You’re spineless, Tim.” Brian responded coldly.

“Anyway, I think it will give you some inspiration to hear from someone who experienced my situation in reverse. So, now my friend and model inmate, Shane, who I’ve allowed to be my second in command, will say some words.”

I shut my eyes, trying to stop the memory of my attack from replaying. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. Shane stepped forward, and I shrank backwards, pinning myself up against the boxes. I wanted to curl into a little ball and die.

“Thank you for that invigorating introduction, Tim. So I wasn’t always an inmate. I used to be an officer just like Tim. Then a despicable little rebel took everything away from me. I was kind enough not to report him sneaking out after curfew, and what did he do in return? He made up some insane allegation of rape and got me locked up in this joint with all you deplorable trash.”

Pure rage filled through me, and suddenly I wasn’t afraid anymore. I was just irate. I saw nothing but red as I lunged at Shane. “Liar!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, “You fucking liar!” It was so unlike me to use profanity and attack someone, but clawing at Shane and calling him out felt far from unnatural. It was simply liberating. I was finally free from looking over my shoulder in fear or seeing Shane in my nightmares because I knew I was capable of facing him in real life now. I could finally show my strength and overpower him. “You’re a fucking rapist!” I shouted, “You raped me, and you know it!”

Shane kicked me off of him, and Tim held me back to stop me from attacking again. “Oh, honey, who’s going to believe you?” Shane chortled.

“I believe him.” Brian said.

“I believe him.” Bowie said.

“I believe him.” Jim said.

Soon all of the rebels in the room were coming forward in solidarity. I teared up again, just nodding at my friends in silent gratitude. At long last I was completely healed. I could look Shane in the eye, acknowledge that he violated me, but move past it all with the help from my friends and loved ones. Oh, Ronnie would be so proud of me if she could see. I missed her so much.

“Alright, that’s enough!” Tim released me, “Everyone back to work!”

Shane gave me a shove, back against the boxes. “You’d better watch yourself, honey.” With my newfound confidence, I got in his face. “I’m not afraid of you, and my name is John, not honey.”

Brian stepped between us before anymore altercations could arise. He glared at Shane. “If you touch him again, you’ll be sorry.”

“Get back to work!” Tim hollered.

“Are you okay, Deaky?” Brian asked with a return to his normal soft tone I was much more familiar with.

“Actually I’ve never been better.” I said, feeling myself smile. This confrontation proved to be very healthy after all.

“If you ever need anyone to talk to—“ Brian started, but Bowie cut him off, “We’re  _all_  here for you, Deaks.”

“Thanks guys. I appreciate it, but I’m feeling better now that I’ve faced my fears and called Shane out in front of everybody.” I said.

I sorted through the first bag which was filled with makeup and beauty products. Miami hadn’t been exaggerating about all the eyeliner available. There were probably hundreds of pens. Maybe I could steal one for Freddie. The tags read that they were confiscated from a women’s rebel camp. Well that explained why I had yet to see any girls around here. I didn’t know they kept the men and women rebels separate. That meant I would have no way of knowing if…No! I wouldn’t even let my mind travel down that dark path. Veronica got out of the club that night. I told her to run, and she ran. Her escaping was the last thing I saw before the shocks knocked me unconscious. They couldn’t have caught her. There was no way!

“Are you sure you’re alright, Deaks?” Brian asked.

“Yeah. I was just thinking about Veronica. Do you think there’s any way we can get a message to the women’s rebel camp?”

“On the outside, I was able to get in contact with a girl named Chrissie. I found her letters lying on a bench underground. One day I left a letter for her on the same bench. When I came back, my letter was gone and she had left a response.” Brian said, looking up thoughtfully, “She never told me how she got her letters out and onto that bench each and every time. Most people have friends on the outside helping them to spread their messages across the tunnel. That was probably her strategy. She just never got around to telling me.”

“Do you think we can trust Miami?” It was the first idea that popped into my head, “Maybe he could deliver our letters to the outside for us.”

Brian shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“May, Deacon!” Tim yelled, “I’m going to tell you one last time. Shut your fucking mouths and get to work!”

“We’ll talk about this later.” Brian whispered and I nodded.

Call it hypocrisy, but Tim and Shane chatted quietly amongst themselves despite reprimanding anyone who dared to speak as they completed the mundane task of loaded items onto the conveyer belt. I couldn’t care less what the traitor and rapist had to say until Tim asked a question that caught my attention.

“So what’s the deal with your bracelet, Shane? It’s always flashing yellow. I noticed the same thing happens to Prince Prenter too, but there’s no way in hell I’d ever ask him about it.”

“You haven’t heard of the soulless curse?” Shane asked flippantly.

Tim gasped. “I thought that was nothing more than urban legend.”

“No. It’s real. I don’t have a soulmate because I don’t have soul…allegedly.”

“That I believe.” I said under my breath. Shane didn’t deserve a soulmate. If he did have a soul, which was quite doubtful, I could guarantee it was full of garbage.

“Are you sure?” Tim pestered, “What if your bracelet is on suppression mode and just blocking your soulmate’s signal? They do that for the watchlist rebels.”

“As a watchlist rebel, my bracelet never turns yellow like that because unlike him, I have a soul.” Brian whispered making me snicker.

Shane looked up in response to the commotion we were making, but I wasn’t afraid of him anymore. I looked him right in the eye as he wore that same twisted smirk resembling a haunted clown mask. “You know I really don’t need a soulmate.” He spoke loud enough for everyone to hear, “I can get plenty of ass, isn’t that right, honey?” Without bothering to ask for my consent (of course not), Shane reached over and slapped my rear end.

I wasn’t sure who moved first. I found myself attempting to stab Shane with the confiscated eyeliner in my hand while Brian, Bowie, and Jim all charged, punching a different part of his body.

“Break it up!” Tim shouted, “Stop before I report all of you!”

We backed down, but I couldn’t help but feel invigorated. The old Deaky would never get into fist fights on a whim like this. What would my mother think?

“This is your final warning.” Tim stressed, “If any of you attack Shane again, I’ll have you all flash frozen.”

I weighed the pros and cons in my mind. Would it be worth it to see Shane taken down? The fact that I was truly considering this was insane. Who would’ve guessed that beating up Shane would become my new favorite hobby! I just couldn’t let him have the upper hand. Especially when he had the nerve to continue sporting that terrifying smirk. Taking pleasure out of my fury, he leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Admit it, you dirty slut, you wanted it.”

Brian and Bowie held me back, preventing me from attacking again. “I promise we’ll get him back another way.” Brian assured me, “For now let’s just keep our heads down for the rest of the shift.”

We returned to our menial task, not saying another word. I was actually starting to believe that we would make it through the shift without any other issues.

“Well, this box is emptied. Let’s move onto the next one.” Brian announced as he opened the next box of contraband. When he saw what was inside, the box slipped from his fingers, and there was a look of both shock and delight on his face. I examined the box for myself finding a red guitar inside, and judging from Brian’s reaction it wasn’t just any guitar. Could this be the legendary red special that he built with his father?

“I thought for sure it was gone! They confiscated it so long ago.” Brian exclaimed.

The tag did indeed confirm the guitar’s identity. ’ _Contraband: Makeshift instrumental device; Confiscated from the May residence of Neighborhood 7; Slated for destruction: Incineration’_

“No way!” I cried.

“My father would be happy if he knew it wasn’t destroyed.” Brian sighed.

Like always, I didn’t know what to say. At least I had some idea on what to do. As they say actions speak louder than words. Glancing back to make sure that Tim and Shane were distracted with their conversation, I swiftly snagged the tag from the red special. Without putting the guitar on the conveyer belt to be incinerated, I scanned the ticket.

“I believe this box is finished as well.” I spoke loudly on purpose as I closed the box, “Completely empty.”

Immediately catching on, Brian grinned and picked up another box. “Let’s get started on this one.”

“Hey!” Tim hollered, and for a second I believed I had been caught in the act of preserving the red special. Much to my relief he shouted, “Everyone stop! That light above the furnace indicates that it has reached its full capacity for today. You’re dismissed. Wait for your party supervisors to escort you back to your rooms.”

As soon as Tim and Shane left, Brian reopened the box I had discarded once again unveiling the red special. “We can’t leave it here. Someone in the next shift might put it on the conveyer belt.”

“I don’t know Bri,” I said nervously, “Smuggling eyeliner for Freddie is one thing, but it’s a lot harder to hide a guitar. It survived this long, didn’t it?”

“This box probably started off at the very top of the stack.” Brian said pointing up to the boxes at the ceiling, “And over time as more boxes below were emptied, it made its way down. That’s how it survived this long. Reasonably, we know it won’t survive much longer.”

He was right, and I couldn’t argue with his logic. Still, finding a way to hide it without getting caught seemed impossible. There were cameras everywhere, and it was only a matter of time until the party supervisors began to arrive. As if on cue, Ray Foster stormed into the room. “Deacon, May, drop what you’re doing and follow me. You’re going back to your cell!” Why did Ray always have to sound so irritated when he spoke?

“Shit!” Brian said, putting the box down.

“Don’t worry.” Bowie said, closing the box to conceal the guitar, “I’ll hide it for you.”

“Deacon, May! Don’t make me call you again!” Ray roared.

“Bowie, I can’t thank you enough.” Brian said. “Yes, thank you for everything.” I told our friend.

“Of course. Take care, boys.”

Ray grumbled about us taking our sweet time as he escorted us out of the warehouse. All in all, our first shift hadn’t gone as bad as I had envisioned. I never expected to live up to my greatest fear and conquering it with triumph. Shane may still be a good for nothing rapist who had the capability to hurt me again, but at least he no longer held me hostage emotionally. Standing up to him gave me the final closure I needed to at long last feel at peace. Now if I could just get some cheese on my toast, I’d be truly happy.

“I wonder what Roger and Fred have been up to while we were gone.” Brian pondered.

“Hopefully they weren’t having too much fun without us.” I mused.

“How could they have fun without us? We are the life of the party!”

“Yes,” I chirped sarcastically, “between me never speaking and you lecturing them on science, we know how to show them a good time.”

“Science can be fun.” Brian said completely missing the point of my joke.

“Ray, wait!” Someone called from behind us.

Ray stopped walking as we turned around to see Miami walking alongside Bowie. Miami was holding a box that resembled the one the red special had been in. If I didn’t know any better I’d say it was the same box. Oh no! Bowie was walking with his head down as if he had let us down.

“I’m taking him back to his cell which happens to be in the same block as yours.” Miami explained, “Why don’t you take the afternoon off?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” Ray said, “They’re your problem now, Beach.”

“Hello, John. Hello, Brian.” Miami kindly greeted us as Ray eagerly fled the scene. Surprisingly, Miami handed the box over to Brian. “Do you mind holding that for me? Don’t open it.”

“Is this what I think it is?” Brian asked, his eyes widening.

“It’s just an empty box from the incineration center.” Miami said, “I was on my way to take it to recycling, isn’t that right, David?”

“What are you—Oh yes.” Bowie blurted, “The box is most definitely empty. There are absolutely no guitars in it.”

“You  _are_  on our side.” Brian whispered, but Miami shushed him.

We stopped at Bowie’s cell first. When Miami opened the door, I was able to catch a glimpse of another man sitting on one of the beds. He was wearing large glasses. “Elton, I’m home!” Bowie announced as Miami shut the door.

“So, how are you boys holding up?” Miami asked, “Do you need anything? Are you out of clean uniforms? Do you have enough towels?”

Somehow Miami was treating our forced enclosed home as a stay at a resort as opposed to a prison cell. It was so considerate of him to try his best to make us feel comfortable. If only the other officers and party members were as hospitable as our friend.

“We’ll manage.” Brian said, “You’ve already done more than enough for us.”

“Yes, well, I want you and more importantly the songbird to be happy.” Miami said.

“Songbird?” I echoed.

“You haven’t used the earplugs yet, have you, Deaky?”

I shook my head, not understanding the correlation. Was Miami speaking to us in code? Brian’s brows furrowed as he tried to figure out what Miami meant.

“Don’t worry. It will all make sense soon.” he said, “If I could be more upfront, I would, but what I’m doing is very risky. Paul can never find out.”

“You’re killing me, Miami.” Brian said, “Is the songbird a person? Please just tell me so I can have some peace of mind!”

Miami frowned. “You were supposed to be the smart one, Brian. Maybe I should’ve chosen Roger to be the second protector instead of you.”

Now I was even more confused than before. “What is going on?”

“Deaky, just use the earplugs, and I promise you’ll understand soon enough.”

Brian and I exchanged glances confirming that we were both equally perplexed by Miami’s madness. Not giving us any additional clues, he simply opened the door for us. Thinking of my cozy top bunk, I realized how tired I was. How long had it been since I shut my eyes? There was no way I’d be able to solve this mystery when I was so sleep deprived. I yearned to dive right into my bed and go to sleep, but I stopped at the threshold stunned by what I saw.

Freddie was on the floor in tears, shaking Roger who appeared to be unconscious. “Come on, Roggie! Don’t do this to me, darling!”

“Oh God!” Brian shouted, “What happened?”

“I-I don’t know.” Freddie wailed, “Everything was fine until—until…he put  _those_ in.” That was when I noticed Roger was wearing the earplugs, the same ones Miami wanted me to use. “As soon as he put them in, he started spasming and fell unconscious. I can’t get them out of his ears. They’re stuck.” Freddie cried.

“No!” Miami shouted, “He wasn’t meant to use them. They were for John.”

“W-what is happening?” I shrieked.

“I wish I knew.” Freddie said, “Miami, why the hell would you give someone earplugs that give you a seizure?”

I knelt down alongside Roger, and began to slap him silly, but nothing would work. His eyes remained shut and his body was perfectly still. Brian intervened as well, trying to pry the earplugs out of Roger’s ears and wake him up. “Roger, I know you can hear me! Please, you need to come back.”

“Relax.” Miami said, “He’s alright. He was just exposed to some ancient frequencies. It’s a kind of magic. As soon as the message is transmitted, the earplugs will loosen again and he’ll be able to take them out. I’m telling you, he’s fine.”

“You’d better start making some sense, Miami!” Brian shouted, “You owe us answers.”

Roger stirred and we all froze. I let out a sigh of relief when his blue eyes blinked open. Wincing, he put a hand to his head as if he were experiencing a hangover. Freddie was able to pick out the earplugs as they were no longer stuck.

“I-I forget who smuggled in the drugs.” Roger slurred, “But that was some crazy trip. Last time I hallucinated something that real was when Paul gave me the shot.”

“What you saw wasn’t meant for you, Roger.” Miami informed him.

Roger scrambled backward against the bedpost when he saw Miami standing over him. “Shit! Y-you’re…not human, are you, Miami?”

He shook his head. “You are correct. I am not a mere mortal like you and your friends.”

Believe me I was just as frightened and confused as you to hear this revelation. Miami’s magical earplugs were meant for me, but since Roger stole them and seemed to know the most now, maybe you should hear from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot twist! Miami isn’t mortal. So what is he? And what is going on? Fear not! All will be revealed in the next chapter. Hopefully, I can finish it and get it up before school starts. Stay tuned!


	11. One Vision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie comes out to Roger. Miami accidentally reveals the truth about Paul to Roger instead of Deaky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is a bit different and things get a little trippy. I would appreciate some feedback to make sure that you guys like the direction this story is taking. Thanks so much for all of your comments and kudos thus far!

_Roger’s POV_

(Earlier)

“Brian and Deaky will be okay.” I said to myself as I paced back and forth, “Ray was just messing with them. They’re going to come back alive.”

“Darling, you need to relax.” Freddie interrupted, “When was the last time you slept?”

“I don’t need to sleep. I need to smoke.” I was really starting to feel symptoms of withdrawal, and it wasn’t fun. I couldn’t stop pacing and my body was shaking.

“Let’s take our mind off things.” Freddie climbed onto one of the top bunks so he could reach the air vent. “Look, Roger! We’ve got mail.” He held up a folded piece of paper.

As soon as Freddie jumped down, I snagged the letter from him, ignoring his pouts. Still, I couldn’t be more pleased with my find. ‘ _Hello. Get this message to Brian May. Be respectful and don’t read it unless you are him.’_

“Oh no! It unfolded itself.” I snickered, “I guess I have no choice but to accidentally look at the words on the page.”

“Roger, you are horrible!” Freddie smirked, “But as good friends we have to ensure that whoever wrote this letter isn’t being cruel. We need to shield Brian from hate mail.”

“For sure.” I agreed.

With that justification, our eyes scanned the page. Fortunately, it was a far cry from hate mail. Brian would have to understand our concern. Oh who was I kidding. We were reading a very personal message. Brian would be absolutely infuriated with us, but that didn’t make this love letter any less intriguing.

‘ _My dear Brian,_

_I heard you were sent to a rebel camp. I hope I can still reach you because your letters are what get me through my time here in the women’s rebel camp across the way. I read them repeatedly and keep them hidden so no guards can confiscate them. Every night I dream about the day we can finally meet in person, and you can kiss me under the stars just like you promised. You need to stay strong, my brave rebel._

_Your love,_

_Chrissie_

“Holy shit!” I laughed, “Bri has a girlfriend. How come he never told me?”

“She seems to really like him too.” Freddie said, “I wonder if she’ll still feel that way if they do meet in person and she realizes that she’s been reading letters from a poodle.”

We laughed at Brian’s expense. I knew I was going to hell for making fun of my best friend, but it was just too easy to mock him. Freddie didn’t seem to have a problem with it either. We took turns reading the letter out loud in the most over the top girly voices we could manage, and it seemed to only get more hilarious each time.

“Oh dear! We are such bad friends.” Freddie at last admitted after we were done giggling.

“Brian does deserve to find love.” I said in all seriousness, “It’s unfair that they block soulmate signals for watchlist rebels, so I’m glad he found Chrissie. Hopefully, it’ll work out between the two of them.”

“If it’s meant to be…” Freddie said softly, but I could see that his mind had drifted somewhere else.

“Dom’s probably pissed that I left her without a soulmate.” I realized, “I wonder if she’ll get reassigned to someone else.”

“I’d understand if they paired Mary with a new man.” Freddie sighed, “It would hurt to see her with someone else, but it would only be fair because now I’m with J—Never mind.”

“Well, on the bright side, you wouldn’t get to see her with the other person. You’re stuck here remember?” Neither of us were getting laid anytime soon, that was for sure. Out of all the cruel things they’ve done to us so far, I’d rank denying us contact with women as one of the worst.

“Rog, there’s something you should know about me.” Freddie whispered. I waited patiently for him to follow up, but he said nothing. I glanced back at his bed to confirm that he hadn’t fallen asleep. His eyes were wide open, staring at the top bunk.

“I wish they’d give us conjugal visits.” I said, deciding to loosen Freddie up with some talk of sex, “It doesn’t even have to be with our soulmates. Any prostitute should do the trick. Or even just give us some porn. I mean it still hasn’t clicked that I won’t be seeing any women for the next year. I can’t be the only one bothered by that. It’s bound to upset you too, right, Freddie?”

“I’m tired.” Freddie abruptly yawned (although the yawn sounded somewhat forced), “Can we go to sleep?”

I was still much too shaky and edgy from my nicotine withdrawal to fall asleep. Besides, there was the matter of the bright overhead light that never seemed to turn off. Just looking for something to do, I traveled around the room in search of a light switch. A failed investigation of the walls did not end my quest. My exploration soon brought me down on my knees, checking underneath the beds and rummaging around the floor.

“What in the world are you, dear?” I had caught Freddie’s attention.

“I can’t sleep with that bloody light on. I’m looking for the off switch.”

“What makes you think it would be on the floor? That just seems silly.” Freddie reasoned.

“I can’t find it anywhere else.” I pointed out.

Freddie eyed the room and reached a conclusion. “It’s a torture tactic. They don’t want us to sleep. Just try to shut your eyes. If you’re tired enough, you’ll fall asleep even with the light on.”

“But I’m not tired.” I said, “You said you were tired.”

“I am. I’m going to sleep.” Freddie said shortly. He turned onto his side, so he was no longer facing me. Was he mad or something?

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked.

“No. Nothing you do is wrong.” he said, still not looking at me, “You can stay up and think all about women like any normal man would because that’s how it should be. We should be attracted to women! So go on, Roger, think all about tits without worrying that your fantasies are wrong.”

Whoa! Where the hell did that bitter sounding rant come from? What was wrong with thinking about tits? It wasn’t like I was being disrespectful to a real woman. It was all in my imagination. “Believe what you want, Fred, but I’m not that perverted.”

Without warning, Freddie jumped out of the bed. “You know you have no idea how fucking lucky you are to not have to question what your heart is telling you.” He gave me a shove against the bed post, “Everyone will just accept who you love. You don’t have to worry about coming out or being disowned or…” Freddie just trailed off as he held back tears, but he had said enough for me to understand. How could I be so blind? Freddie was gay, and he was trying to come out to me. I probably sounded like such a jerk to him going on and on about women.

“There you have it, darling.” Freddie choked, “I’m gay. I love men. Go ahead and mock me.”

I nearly broke down alongside him. “Freddie, I didn’t know.” I said, consoling him, “I’m sorry. You know I would never mock you for something you have no control over.”

“It’s okay.” he said, “I shouldn’t have shouted at you and pushed you like that. I don’t know what came over me. Can you forgive me, darling?”

“Don’t apologize to me.” I told him, “You can’t change who you are, Freddie, and I wouldn’t want you to change because you’re the best. You’ll always be my friend no matter what.”

He smiled, showing his teeth so I knew it was genuine. He wiped the tears from his eyes. “Will you help me come out to Brian and Deaky when they get back? Do you think they’ll be as accepting as you?”

“Freddie, we’re your friends. We know how special and talented you are. Your sexuality shouldn’t matter. Hell, you could be car sexual for all I care, and it wouldn’t change anything.” I assured him.

“Car sexual, huh?” he mused, “Are you sure you’re not projecting anything?”

“I don’t know. That was just something I made up. I doubt it’s a real thing.”

“Sure, Roger, keep telling yourself that, Mr. I’m in Love With my Car.” Freddie teased.

I was glad things were back to normal between us. I wouldn’t want something as frivolous as Freddie’s sexuality to get in the way of our friendship. It really didn’t matter to me, and it pained me to know that Freddie was so bothered by it. He shouldn’t have to feel bad. True friends and loved ones would stay by his side no matter what. If others ridiculed him then they weren’t worth the time and should be kept out of his life.

Still grinning widely, Freddie fell back onto the bed. “Thank you.” he exclaimed, “I feel so much better now that I’ve gotten it off my chest. I hate living a lie.”

“You shouldn’t have to.” I assured him, “And I promise Brian and Deaky won’t treat you any differently. We’ll all love you just the same.”

“I suppose if we can all accept Brian as a vegetarian, then this is no different.” Freddie joked.

“Oh no. I still haven’t accepted that. Rejecting meat is not okay.” I purposefully changed the subject to get Freddie to laugh again. Man, we were just getting a kick out of bashing Brian for some reason. First with Chrissie’s letter and now this. Oh well. He wasn’t here, so he wouldn’t find out.

“How many vegetarians does it take to change a lightbulb?” I ventured.

“I don’t know.”

“None. They’re all too weak from protein insufficiency.”

Yeah, we made shitty jokes like that, laughing until my eyelids began to feel heavy. Maybe Freddie was onto something, and I was tired. “I still can’t sleep with that light on you know.” I yawned.

“Maybe try Deaky’s earplugs. I don’t know if that will help, but if you can’t have a dark environment, a quiet one could make up for it.” Freddie suggested.

“We really are the worst friends.” I muttered, “Making fun of Brian all night and then stealing from Deaky.”

“Oh darling, it’s not stealing. It’s merely borrowing.” He picked the earplugs up off the top bunk belonging to the bassist and tossed them to me.

Figuring it couldn’t hurt, I put them in my ears. A loud staticky sound overwhelmed my senses, and my vision faded to black. I was completely blind. My glasses made me look super nerdy, so I was used to having blurry vision, but this was uncharted territory for me. I blinked, waiting for the light or any sort of image to appear. I started to panic when all I saw around me was a sea of darkness. “Freddie!” I shouted.

‘ _Do not be alarmed.’_ I recognized Miami’s voice, but there was no way I could tell where it was coming from. ‘ _I have designed the frequencies to control what you see hear and feel. I will restore your senses after you’ve heard this very important message, and I mean very important. You need to listen very carefully. There is a reason I chose you specifically, John Richard Deacon born on August the 19th 1951.’_

“Um, Miami. I think you’ve made a mistake.” I spoke out into the nothingness, “I’m not Deaky. I’m Roger. Roger Meddows Taylor born on—“

‘— _You probably have many questions for me, Deaky, but you will have to wait until after I have completed this message because it’s been prerecorded.’_

“Yeah, but I’m not Deaky, so if you could just—“

‘— _So, let me start from the beginning. I am not mortal. I am as old as age itself. Your kind may be familiar with me as one of the matchmakers.’_

The matchmakers were the mythical oracle like beings who determined the soulmate matches. No one knew much about them other than the fact that they were magical, and they were never wrong.

‘ _I can read souls.’_ Miami continued, ‘ _I will try my best to explain this in a way that your brain can comprehend.’_

Suddenly, an image of John waving and smiling appeared in the vast darkness. ‘ _This is you.’_  Miami narrated. “Actually it’s not me, but I digress.” I sighed. ‘ _This is your soul.’_  Out of nowhere, John was surrounded by a sparkling blue hue.  _‘Your soul speaks to us—well I don’t think speak is the right word. Have a listen for yourself, I’ve translated the signals so that your ears will be able to pick up on the sound.’_ The blue hue began to hum a beautiful tune almost as if it were singing in a foreign language.

‘ _Now watch what happens when we pair two souls that omit the same signal.’_ Miami said. Now a cute girl stood next to John, and he embraced her. The two made a nice couple. She also had a blue hue surrounding her, and it was humming the same melody as John’s. When the hues collided with their embrace, the blue colors changed to pink. ‘ _Soulmates!’_ Miami declared.

‘ _It is our job to ensure that the stars align so that soulmates find each other.’_ he explained, _‘Over the years, you have made it much easier to achieve with your technology. The bracelets work wonders in that regard.’_

Was there ever a time without the bracelets? How were you supposed to find your soulmate if they weren’t assigned to you?

‘ _The only problem with this system is that it leads to guaranteed happiness as soon as you find your soulmate. How is that a problem you may ask? Well, there are dark creatures who masquerade themselves as mortals, feeding off of natural human fears and feelings of loneliness and insecurity. We refer to these creatures as the soulless. Allow me to show you one you are familiar with.’_

John and his soulmate vanished. In their place was a lanky man with greasy brown hair and beady black eyes. He was in a party officer uniform, so I hated him by default. His name tag read Shane.

‘ _You may believe that Shane is mortal like you, but he is in fact one of the soulless. Notice how his soul looks and sounds different from the others.’_

Instead of a sparkling blue hue with a harmonic melody, Shane’s soul was a thick yellow mass that omitted an ominous hissing sound.

‘ _The soulless do not have soulmates. They seek out other vulnerable souls and claim them as their own. I’m sure you know the type of things the soulless do to their claims because you’ve experienced it firsthand. They become more powerful through abuse.’_ Shit! What did this asshole do to Deaky? I’d kill him myself if he were mortal, but I wasn’t sure if these creatures could die.

‘ _Now back to the topic of the bracelets…’_ I was taken to a beautiful image of what looked like one of the neighborhoods, but with a blue sky and bright sun. People were in the streets laughing and having fun. All of them were dressed differently to express their own styles and uniqueness. The only thing they had in common were their bracelets. There were even differences in the houses as well. The structures were still the same, but some of them had different paint colors, and their gardens had more variety to them as well. More importantly, the flowers were real! ‘ _Originally, the bracelets created a perfect world. The party was able to pair soulmates with ease, and a scanning system could collect information to assign citizens to their dream job that would benefit both them and society. There were no shocks or contracts. No hate no fight, just excitation. All through the night, a celebration.’_ The vision shifted to nighttime where the stars were on full display and the sky was lit up with fireworks. People were singing and dancing in the streets, just having a great time.

“So what the hell went wrong?” I questioned, “Why couldn’t it stay like this forever?”

‘ _The soulless were nearly destroyed by all the happiness and positive energy. Love is their biggest weakness, so the streamlining of soulmates was wiping out their population. When the Queen of Rhye announced she was expecting a son, they took measures into their own claws—oh I forgot you can only see them in their human form—they took measures into their own hands is what I mean to say. Desperate to regain power, they used dark magic to abort her baby and implant a spawn of their own in its place without anyone’s knowledge.’_

Now I found myself back in the darkness staring at an image of Prince Paul. I resisted the urge to give him a nice kick in the groin.

‘ _Paul manipulated his mother to get what he wanted—a world where the soulless could thrive. The Queen may have signed the New Order, but Paul was the one behind it. It started off slowly with the change in how the party paired our chosen soulmates. Paul claimed he was cursed because he wasn’t assigned a soulmate and his bracelet flashed yellow instead of pink or blue. In reality of course his bracelet turned yellow whenever he sought out a new person to claim. He reasoned with his mother that if people were to change their appearances and make themselves prettier then maybe it would attract soulmates more easily and he could break the curse. This is what started the contracts and the physical and surgical clauses you are familiar with. It fed off of insecurities on appearances, and insecurity is one of the sources of negative energy that fuel the soulless. From there, Paul took every opportunity he could to escalate things until the New Order as you know it came into fruition. It was nothing more than an attempt to eliminate love and happiness by destroying individuality and diversity. What is there to love about someone when they are no different than anyone else? Paul built an empire of misery that his fellow soulless could feast on by banning anything and everything that was pleasurable right down to the sky, but that still wasn’t enough for him. The soulless couldn’t just claim Rhye. They wanted the world. Under the guise of a vague terrorist organization, Paul bombed every city outside of Rhye. He could claim world peace because he killed everyone not under his control.’_

“Fuck!” I shouted. Unable to contain my fury any longer, I lunged at the image of Paul. Unfortunately, I fell straight through it because it was nothing more than an illusion.

‘ _You’re probably wondering why I’m telling you all this. After all, you are just a mortal. What can you do to stop the most powerful soulless in the world?’_

“I can run him over with an eight-wheeler truck,” I strategized, “Then I’ll use a chainsaw to—“

‘ _The answer is love.’_

“I’m sure that hippy shit can work too, but if it doesn’t violence is a pretty good answer as well.”

‘ _You may be skeptical, but it’s true. I’ve seen it happen.’_  Miami went on because he obviously was oblivious to my interruptions, _‘You do not realize how powerful you are, Deaky. Shane claimed you and tried to break you and feed off of your pain, but you fought back with love. Falling in love with Veronica helped you heal, but loving her is also killing Shane. He is becoming weaker as we speak. Soon he will be dead. By default, Shane will not show weakness to you, but he is succumbing to…well mortals would describe it as a cancer. He is coughing up blood and slowly deteriorating. Within a year or two, he’ll be gone. Love is what kills a soulless. It is why they can never have a soulmate, the very idea destroys them.’_

“Good job, Deaks! You’re killing a soulless.”

‘ _It is not my job to intervene in the lives of mortals,’_ Miami continued, _‘but I’ve chosen to bend a few rules in order to help you defeat Paul. He is much more powerful than Shane, so he is going to be more difficult to conquer. The other soul readers have allowed me to take human form to assign a primary and secondary protector for Paul’s latest claim.’_

I could already guess who Paul’s newest victim was, but it was nonetheless troubling to hear Miami confirm. ‘ _Paul has claimed your friend, Freddie Mercury.’_

“I won’t let him hurt you, Fred.” I vowed.

‘ _I’m afraid Paul plans to treat Freddie like a caged songbird. He is going to isolate and manipulate Freddie so that he eventually gives into the abuse and convinces himself that Paul’s the one.’_

Freddie was smarter than that, wasn’t he? He’d be able to see through Paul’s wicked tricks. He had to. I knew better than to underestimate an immortal demon thingy, but so far Paul was failing. His first scheme to make Freddie believe that Brian and I had given up Bohemian Rhapsody in interrogation fell flat on his face. What other plans could Paul have to break us apart and push Freddie into his hands? Now that we were aware of the problem, we could stop it from happening.

‘ _I’ve chosen you to be Freddie’s primary protector because I know you’re able to keep quiet.’_

If it wasn’t obvious before, it became even more clear that this message was not meant for me. I was known for having no filter at times.

‘ _Paul has almost become powerful enough to read minds. If he knows that mortals are aware of his plans, he will do everything in his power to silence them. So, you must keep this a secret at all costs. Freddie cannot find out either because if Paul discovers that he knows the truth, he will take his torment to the next level in order to distort the knowledge from Freddie’s mind.’_

“Fuck that.” I decided, “Freddie should know that there’s a perverted creature of the night coming after him. We can help him fight back.”

‘ _I haven’t decided who I am choosing as Freddie’s secondary protector, but he will also be kept in the dark for the most part. I will be leaving him clues on how best to block Paul’s powers from working against Freddie. The main thing you must do is show Freddie love and support and keep him happy. Positive energy weakens the soulless whereas they thrive off of negative energy. If Freddie stays happy and loved in the face of Paul’s abuse, then Paul will eventually be subdued just like Shane. Remember, if Paul falls, so does the New Order, so it’s more than just Freddie you are fighting for. I know I am asking a lot of you, Deaky, and you do not have to accept. However, I chose you for a reason. I have faith that you’ll be the one to save Freddie and stop Paul. Please do not let your friend down. If you need anything please come to me. I have disguised myself as a party supervisor so I can get close to Paul, but never forget that I am on your side. Best of luck.’_

***

“Miami, they need to know the truth.” I begged, “And if you don’t tell them, I will.”

“Only Deaky can know.” he said, “Freddie, if you don’t mind please give those earplugs to Deaky.”

“Don’t listen to him, Freddie. Put them in. You need to know what you’re up against.” I urged.

“Thank goodness I didn’t choose you, Roger.” Miami muttered, “You completely misheard everything I said about keeping this a secret. You could put Freddie in so much danger if he—“

“—I trust him, Miami.” Freddie cut him off, “If Rog thinks this is important for me to know, then I ought to know.”

I grinned as Freddie put the earplugs in much to Miami’s outrage. Brian and Deaky both went down on the floor to comfort Freddie as he went into a spasm. I assumed I had done the same while I was knocked out so I wasn’t phased.

“That was stupid, Roger!” Brian shouted, “If Miami really is immortal, then he has knowledge that we need to heed. You may have just put Freddie’s life in danger.”

“Yes. I did make the right choice there.” Miami announced, “Brian, you are perfect as the second protector.”

I rolled my eyes. “Seriously. You chose him over me?”

“I haven’t a clue what we’re talking about, but Miami probably chose me because I know how to follow instructions.” Brian said.

“You’re a fucking rebel, Bri. By definition you do the opposite of what you’re told.” I reminded him.

“Only when what I’m told is unreasonable. I’m sure Miami has reason for whatever it is he’s doing. Unlike you, you never use any reason, you just act without thinking.”

“Stop fighting!” John interrupted before I could shoot back an insult, “Listen, you’re both right. Miami has his reasons to keep secrets, but sometimes secrets are meant to be shared.”

“Hold still, John.” Miami said, slowly approaching him. Shutting his eyes tightly, he put his hands against both of John’s ears. Without warning, John went into a seizure similar to Freddie’s and passed out. Satisfied, Miami removed his hands. “I should have done that to begin with, but I thought the earplugs would be more convenient as there would be no witnesses to my magic.”

“So am I going to be the only one left in the dark?” Brian complained.

“Miami has his reasons.” I teased.

“Shut up, Rog!”

Proving just how mature I was, I stuck my tongue out at him. Brian just rolled his eyes. Although I couldn’t help but feel bad for him. If he was Freddie’s second protector, he had every right to know about Paul’s evil ways.

“Miami, he’s right.” I said, “We  _all_ need to know. We’re brothers. If one of us is in trouble, then we all help out. Freddie should have three protectors fully aware of what they’re fighting against.”

“Do not make me regret this.” Miami sighed as he put his hands to Brian’s ears.

“You won’t regret this.” I promised him, “Now that we all had one vision, we’ll share one goal: Stopping that motherfucker.”

I glanced down at Freddie, still unconscious. It was about time our songbird fought back, and I knew that he was more than capable of doing so with the support of his brothers. You should see what he thinks about all of this when he wakes up because I’m dying to know how he’ll react.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? I know it’s a surprising turn, but this is the direction the story is taking as of now. Also before anyone can get offended about the whole vegetarian thing, you should know that I’m mostly vegetarian myself. I eat dairy, eggs and fish but that’s it. Also Freddie and Roger will come to regret their jokes soon enough…


	12. I Still Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions run high as the boys try to figure out how to save Freddie from Paul, but inevitably they get distracted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I’m back in school, so updates will be slower, but I promise I am not abandoning this story. This chapter might be a little slower and a bit more on the emotional side as it’s the boys just being themselves and bonding. The next chapters will get more exciting!
> 
> Warning: This chapter briefly mentions rape. It’s quick, but I wanted to include this warning just to be safe.

_Freddie’s POV_

The boys all pestered Miami with questions and formed plans on how to keep me safe. Meanwhile they failed to notice that I hadn’t got a word in because I felt so numb. I was even quieter than Deaky right now as I wrapped my head around all of this information. Of course I was horrified that Paul had claimed me and planned to break me down and steal my happiness, but what shocked me more was the revelation of the bombings. My family and I could have died! Millions of people did die, and it was all because Paul never had a heart of his own. That was when I let it all out. In an outburst of rage I screamed and cursed, kicking the bedpost until I was sure the top bunk would collapse. It was not a pretty sight, darlings, I can tell you that much.

“I’m done.” I exhaled. Miami and my bandmates had ceased their conversation and were staring at me with concern.

“Freddie, you need to find a healthier way to channel all that negative energy. You know it only makes Paul stronger.” Miami said.

“Give the man a break.” Roger defended me, “He has every right to scream and break things. That’s what I’d be doing. In fact that’s what I want to do and I’m not even the one Paul claimed.”

“But don’t you get it, this is exactly what Paul wants.” Miami said, “He feasts off of Freddie’s misery. It makes him more powerful.”

“Well then what the fuck am I supposed to do?” I cried, “I can’t just force myself to be happy for the rest of my life until it finally causes Paul to drop dead.”

“Actually, that’s the only way to fight back against a soulless. Stay happy and embrace love.” he said, “I never said it would be easy.”

“But we’re going to help you, Freddie.” Brian promised.

“Yes.” John chimed in, “You can count on us. We’ll be the cheese to your toast.”

“Deaky, that doesn’t even make any sense.” I remarked, “But thank you.”

“Honestly, Fred, you don’t even need us.” Roger countered, “If the goal is to stay happy all the time, we can just have Miami smuggle you some ecstasy. It’ll get you high in no time.”

“No, no!” Miami scolded, “It needs to be a natural high. Besides, drugs inevitably lead to crashes and Paul will no doubt take advantage of those lows.”

“Darling, I’m sure I can be naturally high and drunk at the same time.” I reasoned, “The least you can do is bring us some fine wine.”

“And cigarettes.” Roger requested.

“I can’t believe you two.” Brian said, “We have an immortal being in our presence with powers we still don’t fully understand, and you want to use him as a drug dealer.”

“How do we suggest we use him then?” Roger shot back.

“Obviously we use him as our new butler.” I forced myself to laugh trying to heed Miami’s advice and stay positive. It came out rather awkwardly because I was still upset and afraid of Paul. After making this comment, I glanced back at Miami who, like Brian, was having none of our shenanigans. “Oh come on, darling. Where’s your sense of humor? I thought you wanted me to have fun and be happy!”

“I’m not your butler. Believe me, I want to help, otherwise I wouldn’t have risked coming to earth, but I won’t be at your beck and call. You and Roger need to take this more seriously.”

“We  _are_  taking this seriously!” Roger protested.

“Yes we are.” I agreed, “So far Roggie’s idea seems the most ideal. It’s not like anyone is suggesting anything better than drugs.”

“I think the first thing we should do is come up with a plan on how to get you out these weekly party supervisor meetings.” Brian strategized.

I had been trying my best to push aside the prospect of being locked in a cell alone with Paul again, but Brian was right. It would inevitably happen next week.

“Let’s not waste any time.” I said, “We need to think. How can I avoid being alone with him next week?”

“Now you’re on the right track.” Miami praised, “I’ll be back soon. Good luck, boys!”

“Miami, wait!” Brian called.

For a second I thought I saw Miami’s pupils flash white. It was probably my imagination. “You know I can’t answer any of your soulmate questions.” He told Brian as if he had read his mind, “It’s up to you to find her. The bracelet signal may be blocked, but you don’t need the pink light to know. Soulmates found each other for thousands of years before the bracelet technology was invented. The fellow soul readers and I ensure that the stars align correctly so you can find each other.”

“Have I found her yet? Can you just tell me if I already know her?” Brian pleaded.

Roger nudged me and pointed up to the air vents, and I knew he was referencing Chrissie’s letter. Perhaps Brian had found his soulmate after all.

“You’ll know.” Miami said slyly.

‘ _You’ll know.’_  His words resonated with me. I knew I shared a strong connection with both Jim and Mary. It was something I couldn’t explain and I just knew. Still, now I was curious, and here I had one of the legendary matchmakers in front of my very eyes. It would be criminal not to take advantage of his knowledge. “Miami, can people have two soulmates?”

“They’re both viable matches for you, Freddie. There is no wrong choice, but it’s a choice only you can make. Just follow your heart and know that love is never wrong.” he replied, “And keep in mind that not all loving relationships need to involve physical romance. You can still have both of them in your life, but one will be a lover and the other one a dear friend.”

“Miami, you are bloody brilliant!” I cried. That answered all of my questions and more. Both Mary and Jim could stay in my life, but I’d love them in different ways. Mary was paired with me for a reason. She had an open heart and would no doubt accept my lifelong friendship. Why didn’t I realize all this before? It would have saved me a lot of trouble worrying about hurting Mary’s feelings. I hardly realized Miami’s pupils were white again because I was lost in my own thoughts. Then he said, “Good job, Freddie! You’re one step closer to defeating Paul.” Ah. So this was that natural happiness he wanted me to achieve. Miami nodded, confirming that he could indeed read my mind and that likely explained his white pupils.

“So you’re allowed to tell Freddie all this, but all you give me is a vague, ‘You’ll know.’” Brian complained.

“Freddie already knows.” Miami said and winked at me before leaving us alone to wallow in our thoughts of soulmates and soulless.

“I might be going slightly mad, but did his pupils turn white?” John asked.

“I think that happens when he reads minds.” Brian said.

“Creepy.” Roger shuddered.

“Miami isn’t creepy. He’s our friend. Paul is creepy.” I corrected, “Now let’s get back to how I’m going to escape that dreadful meeting with him next week.”

“And the ones in the weeks to come.” Brian reminded me.

Shit! Avoiding one meeting could be successful, but Paul would likely be more vehement by the following week. There really was no way out, and the silence from the boys seemed to confirm my fears that there was nothing I could do. Still, I persisted.

“I’m listening.” I prompted, “Amaze me with your elaborate schemes, my rebelling darlings.”

“I’ve got nothing. Sorry, Fred.” Roger sighed, “Maybe you should brush up on your boxing skills. Didn’t you say you took lessons?”

“I did, and fighting back physically would work if Paul were human, but he’s not.” Even my superior boxing and jujitsu training wouldn’t prepare me to take down a soulless. “Does anyone else have any ideas? Bri, you’re the smart one.”

“Give us more time to think.” Brian requested, “Defeating an immortal is not something we can figure out in an instant, but I’m sure if we put our minds together, we’ll come up with something by the end of the week.”

“How about a distraction?” John suggested, “When Freddie’s meeting with Paul, we can find a way to distract him.”

Vague but promising. Miami was right to put John in charge of my protection even though it seemed like an odd choice. Our Deaky shouldn’t be underestimated. “That idea has the most potential.” I complimented, “Let’s work with it.”

“If we could access the electrical grid somehow, we could cause a power surge.” Brian proposed, “Deaks, you’re good with electronics and that kind of stuff, right?”

“I am, but how am I supposed to get to the electrical grid?”

“No.” I decided, giving the plan some thought, “I don’t want to be trapped with Paul in the dark. Shutting the power off won’t do us any good.”

“What if we caused a lockdown somehow?” Roger asked, “All inmates back to their cells for mandatory count kind of thing. You’d be forced back here where Paul can’t get to you.”

“Yes. Roger, that is brilliant!” I exclaimed.

“We could start a riot. That would lead to the lockdown.” Brian strategized.

“What if they flash freeze us for starting the riot?” John asked nervously.

“You could frame someone else for starting the riot.” I suggested.

“Someone we hate obviously.” Roger agreed.

“No!” Brian shouted, “We don’t turn on our fellow rebels. We’re better than that.”

“Unless that fellow rebel is Shane.” John said, “He’s in here as an inmate, remember?”

“I take that back. Shane deserves to rot for what he did to you, Deaky.” Brian backed down, “Hopefully the soulless can be flash frozen.”

“So we’re all in agreement, darlings?” I confirmed, “On the day of my meeting with Paul, we start a riot and frame Shane.”

“We’ll have to work on specific details, but yes. That is the general plan going forward.” Brian agreed and John and Roger nodded.

“So, is this what it’s going to be like when we’re a real band?” Roger asked wistfully, “Us balancing ideas off of one another?”

The thought of us working on music together like this brought a smile to my face. I could imagine us in the not so distant future sharing our songs with one another and using each other for inspiration. That was if we could get through the process without fighting of course.

“You know I was so distracted by all of this madness that I forgot to thank Miami for saving the Red Special.” Brian said.

Roger and I gasped at the mention of his famous guitar. “Bri, you said it was destroyed.” Roger said.

“I thought it was, but I found it in the incineration center, and Miami rescued it for me.” Brian opened the box to show off the instrument with pride. It was hard to believe that he and his father built the guitar from scratch because it looked so professional. I was eager to know if it sounded as good as it looked.

“Well guitars aren’t just meant to be ogled like a piece of eye candy. That’s what paintings are for. Brian, dear, take it out of the box and play something for us.” I encouraged.

“Ooh! Can you please?” Roger begged.

Brian looked down at the guitar as if he were tempted by the idea. Then, he promptly shut the box. “I think we’re getting off track. Freddie, we’re supposed to focus on—“

“—Keeping me safe from Paul.” I interrupted, “I know. I don’t need to be reminded, but surely one song can’t hurt.”

“Maybe later. Why don’t we finish our game of Scrabble?”

“Weren’t you working on a song before I got my contract?” Roger pushed, “What was it called again? A number…49.”

“39.” Brian corrected him.

“Yeah. That’s it. I remember you said you were really excited about it.”

“I was, and I still am, but it’s not finished yet. Now is not really the best time for me to play what I have.” he dismissed.

“We are stuck in here for the next 20 hours.” I reminded him, “The time is now, dear.”

“Look, the last time I played this guitar…” Brian trailed off, and I immediately understood why he was so hesitant. The first and last time he ever played the Red Special, the officers had ambushed his house and tore his family apart.

“Oh shit!” Roger shouted in realization, “Bri, I’m sorry. You don’t have to play it if you don’t want to.”

“But my father wouldn’t want this.” Brian said, opening the box again, “The whole reason we built the Red Special was to bring music back.”

“Then you know what to do, darling.” I told him.

“No pressure.” John assured him.

As soon as he strummed the first note, Brian grinned. “Still works.” He said to himself and continued.

_‘In the year of '39 assembled here the volunteers_

_In the days when the lands were few_

_Here the ship sailed out into the blue and sunny morn_

_The sweetest sight ever seen…’_

While Roger clapped along to the beat, I shut my eyes, experiencing a similar vision to my shot hallucination. I was up on stage singing this song to a joyful audience all clapping along in unison. Brian was next to me, playing acoustic, nodding with encouragement as I treated his song very preciously with my voice. On my other side was Roger, for once not hidden behind the drum set but rather upfront playing a tambourine while providing harmony. Of course, John was next to him also contributing with his guitar.

_‘Don't you hear my call though you're many years away_

_Don't you hear me calling you_

_Write your letters in the sand_

_For the day I take your hand_

_In the land that our grandchildren knew…’_

A shock from my bracelet brought me back to this dismal reality. Brian had stopped playing, but he didn’t put the Red Special back in the box. “That’s all I have written as of now. It’s not finished yet.” He paused and gauged our reactions. “Any thoughts?”

“I thought it was beautiful.” I praised, “Of course, it would sound much better if  _I_ sang it, but that is no fault of your own, darling.”

Brian nodded as if he knew that was the closest thing he’d get to a compliment from me. I had to be honest, didn’t I?

“Well, I can’t imagine it sounding any better.” John said, “I got chills.”

“Rog?” Brian asked for the final feedback.

“I mean it’s no I’m in Love with My Car, but—“

“—You mean to say it’s no Bohemian Rhapsody, dear.” I corrected him before he could go on, “For the record, if we had an album, Brian’s song would make it. Your ridiculous car infatuation would not.”

“Fuck you too, Fred.” Roger scoffed, “Anyway, what I was going to say before I was rudely interrupted by our little diva was that I loved it and I wish we really could all play it together as a band.”

“One day we’ll be able to.” Brian said hopefully, “We’ll be able to make albums and sell them in real record stores, and it will all be legal again.”

“Oh! I miss record stores.” John sighed.

“I miss  _listening_ to records.” Roger said.

“We would redefine records.” I fantasized, “The music world would never be the same. We wouldn’t just be rockstars, we’d be legends!”

Roger beamed and nodded. “If we bring music back, we’d certainly be legends.”

“But legends don’t sing dumb songs about cars.” I told him bluntly. When Roger displayed a certain finger, I ignored him and addressed our guitarist, “As for your song, Bri, I’d let you sing it on the album version, but I want to sing it live at the concerts. I need to have something to sing while I’m on stage.”

“Fair enough.” Brian agreed.

“Too bad this is all hypothetical.” John muttered, “You’re getting me really excited with all this talk of albums and concerts.”

“It’ll be real soon, darling.” I insisted, “It  _has_ to.” Reoccurring dreams had to mean something otherwise they wouldn’t reoccur. I equated my visions of our band as a set destiny. Eventually, it would all come true.

“I’m willing to bet I know who’s been writing you letters in the sand, Brian.” Roger blurted in a suggestive tone. He nudged me when Brian’s face flushed. Ah. So the song was about Chrissie. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Brian lied, but I could see right through the facade. Someone had a crush!

“C’mon, Brian.” Roger said with an eye roll, “You’re my best friend. How long did you expect to hide your secret girlfriend from me?”

“She’s not my girlfriend!” Brian denied.

“But you’re admitting that the song is for her?” I ventured.

“I never said that. How do you even know about Chrissie anyway? I’ve kept those letters hidden pretty well.”

“Not well enough!” Roger laughed mischievously as he retrieved the stolen letter from our hiding spot.

“We didn’t read it.” I tried and failed to keep a straight face. “Well, we didn’t  _mean_ to read it.”

“We totally read it intentionally.” Roger admitted with no shame.

“You two are despicable!” Brian shouted, snatching the letter from Roger.

“Don’t be mad, dear. Staying cooped up in here for 20 hours is so boring. We needed something to do to entertain ourselves.” I justified.

I hoped that would be enough to get us off the hook. It was wrong of us to read the personal letter (not that I regretted it or anything like that, I take pride in all of my actions, darlings), and the last thing I wanted was for Brian to angry with us. Well, he could be angry with Roger, but not with me. We waited in silence for Brian to react as he read the letter. I was shocked when John was the first to speak. “So…is Chrissie your girlfriend?”

“I don’t know.” Brian answered with a shrug. He thankfully didn’t sound too upset.

“She used the L word.” John said in the cutest way possible, “That’s pretty serious. Ronnie and I didn’t get that far in our relationship until…well the night I messed everything up and got you caught.”

“Deaks, for the last time, I don’t blame you for what happened. Eventually I would’ve gotten caught. You’ve done nothing wrong.” Brian assured him, but then reconsidered, “Of course you read the letter over my shoulder just now, but it seems like no one has regard for my privacy, so it doesn’t matter.”

“So she’s not your girlfriend?” Roger asked, slightly disappointed. I couldn’t help but also feeling let down as well. It seemed like our uncovered gossip wasn’t as juicy as we’d originally thought.

“I told you I don’t know. I’m not quite sure what we are. We’ve never met in person, but she has written that she’s in love with me.” Brian said.

“And you’ve of course expressed the same in your letters.” I assumed, “So, if you love each other, then you must be—“

“—I’ve never told her that I loved her. I’ve hinted at it…but I never wrote the word.”

“Why not?” Roger demanded, “Girls always want to hear that romantic shit.”

“Well,  _are_ you in love with her?” I asked the more important question.

“I don’t know.” Brian said again.

“Then you’re not.” I decided for him, “Like Miami said, you’d know.”

“He might change his mind if they meet in person.” Roger reasoned, “Besides if they meet in person, then Bri can finally get laid, and we all know he needs it.”

“Roger!” Brian scolded as I snickered.

“Darling, what do you do at night? Snuggle with a sexy science textbook?” I laughed.

“Very funny.” He shot back sarcastically.

“Guys, leave him alone!” John, the only decent friend in our group leapt to Brian’s defense. Although at this point, Brian had lost interest in our petty banter and returned to strumming his guitar.

Roger decided to turn his teasing on John now that Brian was no longer engaged. “I’m willing to bet that you’re still a virgin, aren’t you, Deaky?”

The look on John’s face was one of humiliation and great sadness. “I wish I still was.” His upper lip trembled as he spoke as if he were about to cry. I couldn’t stop myself, I gave him a hug. “It’s alright, dear. We’re only messing with you because we love you. That’s what brothers do.” Brian put down the Red Special and joined in on our embrace to show John he was supported.

“I don’t get it.” Roger quipped insensitively, “Why would anyone  _want_ to be a virgin?”

That was all it took to get John to cry. Brian and I both gave Roger a death stare as we consoled a sobbing John.

“You are still a virgin, Deaky.” Brian said, “You never consented.” When John didn’t disown his words, what I had been fearing was confirmed. Shane did take advantage of poor Deaky in the worst way imaginable. My heart ached at the thought of what he had to go through.

“Listen to me, darling, what Shane did to you wasn’t sex.” I told him, “Sex is making love and should be pleasurable and passionate. Never conflate that with violation and abuse.”

“Fuck!” Roger realized his mistake at last, “That vile motherfucker raped you?”

“Rog, you’re not helping!” Brian said sharply.

“I-I’m sorry.” John weeped.

“It’s alright.” I whispered consolingly.

“I’ll murder him for you. Will that help?” Roger offered.

“I’m okay now.” John at last composed himself, wiping his eyes dry. Still Brian and I didn’t release him and Roger even joined in our group hug.

“You know I really am sorry, Deaks.” Roger again tried to redeem himself, “Sometimes I just say things without thinking.”

“Sometimes?” I countered, “More like all the time, my dear.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Freddie!”

“Don’t you two start again.” Brian reprimanded before I could get the final word.

“I’m okay.” John repeated, “You can let me go now. Really. I’m fine.”

At last, we parted. The hug only proved as a reminder of our strong bond. There was a reason Roger and I had a similar hallucination: We were meant to be a band, and more importantly we were meant to be together. The boys vowed to be my protector against Paul, but at the end of the day, we all protected each other.

“Can we talk about something else besides sex and our love lives?” John asked in a small voice.

I knew I had yet to come out to him and Brian, but that could wait. No, darlings, I’m not procrastinating! Freddie Mercury does not procrastinate. Otherwise we wouldn’t have Bohemian Rhapsody and all my other brilliant melodies. Fine, you’re right. I was procrastinating with this particular issue. As rewarding as it was to have Roger accept me, coming out was still a scary thing to do. At this point, I was just waiting for the natural moment to arise. Considering we were having such an emotional night and John requested we not address the very subject I hoped to breach, I didn’t want to lay such heavy news on my friends so quickly.

“Freddie?” Brian asked.

“Hmm?” I looked up in an attempt to return my drifting mind, “Were you saying something, darling?” It seemed like Brian was in the middle of relaying some information to me while my mind had wandered.

“I said Jim wants you to know that he’s alright even though he’s here. He didn’t spill anything to Paul and he doesn’t plan to. You can still trust him.” he said.

For some reason my mind was having difficulty deciphering Brian’s words. Jim. My Jim? He couldn’t possibly mean my Jim. Jim wasn’t here, and that was a good thing. I didn’t want him here. Even if it meant I’d never see him again at least I knew he wasn’t here…

“Freddie?” Brian asked again, “Did you hear me?”

“Y-yes…I think I’m sleep deprived. I’m sorry.” I stammered, still trying to wrap my head around what he was telling me, “I must’ve heard wrong. Did you say Jim?”

“I did. Your friend, Jim Hutton. Deaky and I ran into him, and he wanted us to give you the message that he’s okay and he didn’t rat you out.”

Fuck! Jim wasn’t supposed to get sucked into this mess. I told him to destroy the note. Why didn’t he destroy the bloody note? This was all my fault. If I hadn’t given him that final clue to get in touch with me, then there wouldn’t have been a link between us. There would have been no reason to interrogate him. How could I let my love down like this? I should’ve known better. Oh God! What if Mary was caught? I didn’t even consider her interrogation to be an issue because I left her in the dark to save her, but what if she was investigated and captured over a technicality? Paul was destined on ruining my life, so he’d likely start with the two people who I gave my heart. It wasn’t fucking fair, but I was dealing with someone who played dirty.

“Jim shouldn’t be here.” I spoke when I noticed my friends’ concerned gazes, “He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Paul blackmailed him.” John explained, “There was video footage of him having an affair with someone other than his soulmate. Jim chose to accept the charge and be sent here rather than give you up. He cares about you a lot, Freddie.”

Oh Jim. What have you done? I could only imagine how badly Paul terrorized my sweet man during interrogation. He deserved nothing of the sort, and it was heartbreaking to fathom that I was the cause of such agony. “I didn’t even ask him to make that choice for me.” I sighed, “Honestly, I would’ve told Jim to tell Paul everything he wanted to hear to save himself, but it’s too late for that.”

“But affairs are just minor infractions.” Roger said, “I’ve gotten caught with plenty of women other than Dom, and I was just let off with a warning.”

“This is different.” I said, “Paul bent the rules. He wants to hurt those closest to me and feed off of my tormented feelings. He’s probably growing stronger from my guilt as we speak.”

“Jim didn’t want you to feel guilty, Freddie. He said so himself.” Brian said, “He didn’t give you up because he’s a good man. He’ll always stay loyal to his darling. Those were his words.”

Was it possible to be both incredibly lucky and very unfortunate at the same time? Here I had the most wonderful man in the world, but because of his devotion to me, he had gotten himself into serious trouble.

“Do you want us to give him a message the next time we see him?” Brian offered, “Paul probably wants you two to be separated to keep you in isolation, so Jim will likely stay in our work shift rather than yours.”

That logic sounded legitimate, but the truth was painful. Soon Roger and I would be assigned to our work shifts, and when I was out, I wouldn’t be reunited with Jim. For now I would have to rely on Brian and John like carrier pigeons. Of course, the message I wanted to relay to Jim would require me to come out to the guitarists first. For once Roger was able to be intuitive.

“Freddie, are you and Jim…” He trailed off, but I understood the implication of his incomplete question.

“We are.” I said with a sad smile. Roger nodded, his eyes displaying mixed emotions for me. He was happy that I had found somebody to love, but angered that Paul was splitting us apart. Overall, he was understanding, and that was all I could ask for in a friend. “Thank you, dear.” I whispered. Roger patted my back supportingly.

“We leave you two alone for a few hours and suddenly you’re telepathic?” Brian quipped.

“Freddie, you have to tell them.” Roger urged, “I promise it won’t be bad.”

“You’re in love with Jim, aren’t you, Freddie?” John blurted before I could even open my mouth.

“Holy shit!  _You’re_ the telepathic one, darling.” I shouted, “How’d you figure that one out?”

“I could see it in your eyes.” he replied with a shrug.

“So…Jim is more than just a friend to you?” Brian asked, “Does that make you…”

“Gay, yes. It’s okay. You can say it, dear. I won’t get offended. I fancy men. I hope you can still accept me.” I said all in one breath. It was probably only a split second before Brian replied, but for me the uncertainty dragged on for an eternity.

“Of course I still accept you. It makes no difference to me who you fancy.” he said, “I just wish you didn’t have to keep a secret this long. It must’ve been very difficult for you.”

“Well, I’m out now.” I let out a sigh of relief, “And you three aren’t treating me any differently. So that’s all that matters.”

“We’d never treat you differently, Freddie.” Brian said, “Nothing’s changed. You’re still the same crazy brilliant diva we know and love.”

“Friends forever!” John declared.

“Friends forever!” We repeated in unison.

“See!” Roger insisted, “I told you they’d be fine with it.”

“You were right.” I acknowledged.

“So, now that we have some context,” Brian said, “is there anything you want us to tell Jim for you?”

I knew what I wanted to tell Jim, but I had to be the one tell him. The words wouldn’t sound as special being transcribed from someone else. So I wrote the message down on a piece of paper and handed it to Brian.  _‘I still love you.’_ To be expected, Roger grabbed the note and read it out loud, but I didn’t care. There were no more secrets.

“That’s so sweet.” John cooed.

“So sappy.” Roger joked but winked to confirm that he was only teasing.

“I still love him.” I stated, “What else is there to tell him?”

“He still loves you, Freddie. He wouldn’t have lied to Paul if that weren’t the case.” Brian said, “I’ll give this to him for you, but I think he already knows.”

“Thank you.” I yawned.

“You are sleep deprived.” he realized.

“We all are.” John agreed.

“I don’t wanna sleep.” Roger whined.

“Then stay up all night and be cranky. The rest of us need our beauty sleep.” I said, “Good night, darlings.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Freddie is officially out of the closet! I debated over whether or not to call this chapter 39 or I Still Love You, but since it’s a Freddie chapter and not a Brian chapter I decided on the latter. I think the next few chapters are going to remain in Freddie’s POV, but don’t quote me on that because I might change my mind. Let me know what you think. There is more to come soon!


	13. Delilah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chaos ensues during Freddie and Roger's work shift. Freddie endures Paul's wrath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Never in my wildest dreams would I imagine this story receiving over 1000 hits. Thank you everyone from the bottom of my heart. <3 
> 
> Sorry for the delay. These next few chapters are going to be somewhat darker, but I will try to balance in some fluff along the way. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Warning: This chapter contains homophobia as well as some very intense abuse/violence that could be triggering to some. Be warned! Reader discretion is advised.

“Rise and shine, boys!”

“Fuck off!” I groaned, still half asleep. Slowly, I opened one eye, and the blinding light from overhead forced me awake. It was a bloody miracle I was somehow able to fall asleep in this bright environment to begin with. Still, I refused to open my other eye or even bother getting out of bed. My mind was awake, but my body was still asleep.

“Come on! Get up!” Miami urged, “Don’t make use force.”

“We’re up.” Brian yawned.

“No we’re not!” Roger shouted, launching a pillow at Miami’s face.

“Two minutes.” Miami declared as he dodged the pillow, “I’ll be back in two minutes, and if you’re not awake by then, there will be trouble.” Keeping up with this sudden strictness, Miami slammed the door shut as he left.

“I thought he was on our side. Why is he being such an ass?” I wondered.

“Maybe he’s not a morning person.” John muttered, rubbing his eyes.

“It’s not morning. It’s 2 o’clock in the afternoon.” Brian noted, “This place is messing with our circadian rhythm.”

“Fuck circadian rhythms. I want more sleep!” Roger cried.

“I warned you that you’d be cranky, didn’t I, darling?” I recalled.

Miami returned before Roger could say something combative. It was never too early to get into a quarrel with him.

“Boys, I’m serious. You need to get up!” Miami said, “I volunteered to escort Freddie and Roger to their work shift, so you don’t have to deal with Ray Foster again. I want this to work out, so you don’t have to interact with him anymore.”

“Let me guess. He’s also a soulless.” Brian predicted.

To no one’s surprise Miami nodded. “Fortunately, he’s a fairly harmless one. He hasn’t claimed anyone yet as far as I know.”

“Doesn’t make him any less of a pain in the ass.” Roger said.

“Well, hurry up and get ready, so you don’t have to see him anymore. He’ll be reassigned as your escort if I let you two show up late to your shift.”

“Does this mean Brian and I can keep sleeping?” John asked.

“Yes. You can do whatever you please for the time being.” Miami told him.

Both Brian and John lay back down in their beds as Roger and I forced ourselves up. I glared at the slumbering guitarists with envy.

“Revenge.” I said under my breath and Roger nodded.

We fought for space when using the one sink and cramped area to brush our teeth and make ourselves presentable. I began to apply Miami’s god saving eyeliner when the gift giver cleared his throat. “We really don’t have time for that, Freddie. Let’s go.”

“Yeah, you’re hogging the mirror.” Roger chimed in, pushing me aside to examine his reflection. “Miami, do you have a brush? I need to fix my bedhead.”

“Here.” I ran a hand through his blonde locks purposefully messing his hair up, “Now you’re perfect, dear. So you can let me use the mirror.”

“I’ll take that eyeliner and poke it into your socket, Mercury.” Roger half teased half threatened.

“Darling, that’s not how makeup works. It goes on your eyelids not in your eyes.” I spoke to him in a condescending tone as I completed my lids for demonstration.

“Ladies, you both look beautiful.” Miami mocked, “Now we really need to go.”

“You’re damn right we look beautiful.” I declared, strutting out the door with confidence.

“I bet we’re the most beautiful bitches you’ve ever laid eyes on, Miami.” Roger snickered and joined me.

“No comment.” Miami remarked.

“Oh how cute! We’re making an all powerful immortal being feel uncomfortable.” I couldn’t help but laugh alongside Roger.

Miami shook his head. “What am I going to do with you two?”

“You love us and you know it, dear.” I insisted.

“How can you not love us? We’re irresistible.” Roger said.

When Miami turned around to chastise us, we both gave him our biggest puppy dog eyes to show just how irresistible we truly were. Then we started laughing as Miami tried his best to keep a straight face.

“Now I should warn you.” His stern tone told us that it was time to stop fooling around, “The shifts for contract breachers are very gruesome and more inhumane than what they have in store for ordinary law breaking rebels. It’s all a breakdown tactic to get you to sign your contract. Remember that your contracts were designed to fuel a world of unhappiness for the soulless to feast on, so don’t give in.”

“We’ve long established that I’d rather die than give up my vocals.” I said, “And as long as I’m not alone with Paul, there’s nothing I’m unwilling to face.”

“I’m with you, Fred.” Roger agreed, “Nothing is worth fucking up my life with that twisted contract.”

That perfectly summed up the situation. What was the worst thing they could make us do? Intense manual labor was a laughable price for something as precious as my voice. Paul could beat me to the ground, and I still wouldn't cave.

“Brace yourselves.” Miami warned as he opened the double doors at the end of the hallway. I was expecting an industrial warehouse, but instead we entered an oversized pigpen. There were pretty pink piggies running rampant all around the room. I smiled fondly at the adorable sight of the pigs scampering by my feet. Yes, I prefer meows over oinks, but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate other animals. What kind of heartless monster do you think I am, darlings?

“What the hell? Why is there a petting zoo in the middle of a prison?” Roger inquired as he pet the cute piglet that nudged itself against his knee.

The other rebels appeared just as confused as we were. Miami had left us, and now we were waiting in anticipation for our instructions. What could they possible have us do with all these pigs? For now I wouldn’t concern myself. Cuddling with pigs was nowhere near as desirable as cuddling with cats, but it still warmed my heart to do so. “Yes, yes, you sweet little oinkers have stolen my heart.” I giggled as the pigs squealed when I scratched them behind their ears.

“You’re just an animal magnet, Freddie. They’re all flocking to you.” Roger noted as his piglet abandoned him to be enveloped in my loving arms. “Oh, I wish I could hold and hug all of you, darlings, but I only have two arms.” I told my entourage of pigs.

Much to my dismay, the pigs were startled by the double doors bursting open, and they all fled from my embrace. “Come back, my lovies!” I pouted as they cowered in the corner.

“Alright, you filthy animals…and pigs, shut the fuck up and listen to me!” I looked up to see none other than Brian and Roger’s former lead singer Tim Staffell walk through the door. He was trailed by someone else who I recognized and loathed: Shane, the soulless who violated John and deserved to die. Together, I deemed them a duo from hell.

“I thought Brian was exaggerating, but they really did turn you into a dirty wanker, Tim.” Roger remarked.

“What part of shut the fuck up aren’t you understanding, Taylor? I don’t want to hear that annoying shrilly voice of yours say another word!”

“It’s a shame that you were brainwashed.” I found myself holding Roger back as I spoke, “You were an almost decent singer. You would’ve had a lot of potential especially with Brian and Roger’s talent to propel you forward.”

“Yeah! We’re going to kick ass without you. We’ll be the greatest band in the world, and you’ll regret ever leaving us and siding with the party.” Roger shouted. The two of us flinched in unison as our bracelets shocked us for acting up. All the while Roger continued to try to escape my grip around around his shoulders so he could lunge at Tim. “Damn, Freddie, you’re stronger than you look.” He muttered amid the struggle.

“I’m having deja vu. You two are literally just May and Deacon 2.0.” Tim groaned.

“I like to think that the two of them are Mercury and Taylor 2.0, but I’ll take it as a compliment, darling.” I replied smoothly, still trying to calm Roger down. It would do us no good if he attacked.

“Don’t call me darling, you fucking faggot.” Tim spat.

I abhorred that disgusting word. No matter how many times someone hurled it at me, it still stung as if it were the first time hearing it. However, it was best not to do something stupid in response.

“Freddie, let me go! We can’t let him get away with calling you that!” Roger cried.

“It’s not worth getting flash frozen.” I whispered.

“Anyway, you dirty rebels are probably wondering why you’re all gathered here with fellow pigs…” Tim said, but he was interrupted when the doors opened again. In walked Reid alongside a slightly heavy man with large glasses. There was something about this stranger that resonated with me. Perhaps it was the sparkle in his eye. I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

“I caught this one playing the piano he was supposed to have impounded and sent to the incineration center. I figured I would let him off with a warning instead of flash freezing him, so I switched his shift to the crueler one.” Reid explained.

“I don’t need his fucking backstory. Just leave him here and get the hell out!” Tim shouted.

“As you wish. Have fun, Elton!” Reid patted his back and then left him for dead.

Elton eyed the pigs curiously as he joined the group. “Welcome to hell.” Roger greeted him.

“Rog, don’t scare him away!” I hissed, before giving our new friend a proper welcome. “Hello, darling, I’m Freddie.”

“I’m Elton. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Freddie.”

“Did you manage to save the piano?” I asked, in a lowered voice.

“I tried.” he sighed, “But there was a bit of an accident with my friend, Bowie.” Before Elton could elaborate on what he meant by this Tim shouted at us to shut the fuck up again.

“Darling, you really need a new catchphrase. It’s getting kind of stale. Don’t you think?” I sassed.

“I only have to keep repeating myself because you refuse to listen!” He shouted, “So as I was saying. You are one lucky group of rebels. You get the fun job. We’re putting you in charge of slaughtering our bacon for us.”

“What the fuck?” I cried. Of course I wasn’t the only one in an uproar. No one had a problem voicing their concerns with murdering the pigs including Roger and Elton. However when Tim took out a gun and shot it in the air, the room fell dead silent.

“If you have a problem with this assignment, take it up with your party supervisor. Spoiler alert, they’ll tell you to sign your contract or get flash frozen. So those are your three options. Now, Shane and I will be supplying you with guns, but don’t get any dumb ideas. The guns are specially designed to only shoot at animals. The trigger will lock if you point it at a human. No revolting allowed. When you’re done with the bacon, we’ll send in the corral of chickens and then cows because we need our wings and beef for tonight’s dinner.”

“Holy shit! I get why Brian is a vegetarian now.” Roger cried.

“We owe him an apology.” I said, staring down into the eyes of the trembling piglet, “I’m going to have trouble eating meat again.”

‘ _Meow!’_

Did my ears deceive me? I scanned the room, searching among the pinkness until my eyes picked out a little grey and white cat. The cat was casually roaming around the room with pigs, having no clue that she didn’t belong. She was misfit just like me, but that certainly didn’t stop her from striding with confidence.

“Is that a cat?” Elton blurted.

“Oh yes. Sometimes strays get caught in the corrals.” Tim said dismissively.

Wearing a smirk that only the devil himself could spawn, Shane proposed, “How about before we start with the pigs, we have someone volunteer to shoot the cat?”

“You sick motherfucker!” I shouted feeling sick to my stomach at the very idea.

“And I believe we have our volunteer!” Shane exclaimed, staring directly at me with no shame.

I returned him a death glare so threatening that it even made Roger cringe. There is one thing you should know about me, darlings. Don’t ever fuck with my cats or you’ll regret it. “Yes, I volunteer.” I told the soulless, “I volunteer to kick your ass!”

“Alright, Freddie! Show off your boxing skills!” Roger applauded. His encouragement was all I needed. Gone was my mentality of trying to get through this shift unscathed. Certain things like animal cruelty were just too much to handle.

“This one is for Deaky!” I declared, socking Shane right in the face making him double over. I dodged his comeback punch and managed to kick his knees, causing him to fall onto the floor. “That’s for suggesting I would ever dream of hurting a precious cat.” Victoriously, I stood over him, but I was far from done. I raised my hand to strike again. “And this is for—“

My bracelet went off in a shocking spiral worse than nearly any I had experienced before. It was as if I were being tasered. Within seconds, I was on the floor alongside Shane. “Fuck.” I groaned.

The only saving grace was my beautiful baby kitten scampering over to lovingly lick my face. Knowing that Shane had almost forced me into taking the light out of this innocent creature’s eyes was enough to make this punishment worth it. Despite the tingling in my body from the shock, I still felt the cat’s sweet ticklish licks. “Darling, stop.” I laughed, “You’re tickling me!”

The cat purred and nestled herself against my cheek in response. Lifting my shaky arm, I pulled her close and pet her fluffy grey fur. “What shall I call you, dearie?” I pondered. She mewed and purred again. “Delilah.” I decided, “Yes. You’re name is Delilah, and I love you very much.”

I noticed Roger now standing over me lending a hand to help me up. “I was about to call you a badass, but then you started cuddling with a kitten.”

“Don’t get too comfortable.” Tim warned as Roger pulled me to my feet, “I just signaled your party supervisor to take you to discuss the possibility of flash freezing. Beating up a fellow rebel is a serious infraction. Your party supervisor will make the final decision on your fate, but you’re going to get punished for your actions.”

Roger’s eyes widened as I scooped Delilah up into my arms. I held her close to me to comfort myself knowing I was going to be facing Paul in a matter of minutes. I was not prepared for this. In my mind, I was telling myself I had another week until my doom.

“Tim, I know you’re still in there somewhere!” Roger begged, “You need to call Paul off. He’s an immortal monster who wants to rip Freddie to shreds.”

‘ _Thanks for that reminder, darling.’_ I thought spitefully. Although I couldn’t be mad at Roger. After all, he was standing up for me, and he was behaving somewhat restrained for once.

“You’re pathetic, Taylor. Attention seeking whore is what you are.” Tim spat.

“For the record, you hogged the spotlight when we were in Smile, not me. So fuck you.” Roger shot back.

I decided to intervene before Roger also ended up on the floor from a nasty shock. Before I could get myself involved in altercation, however, the blonde backed down. Much to my surprise he returned to my side rather calmly. “Freddie, you need to fight back against Paul just like you did with Shane. I know you have it in you. You’ve clearly been holding back on us, you little softie.”

I followed his gaze to Shane who was still on the ground. He deserved that fate as far as I was concerned. I regretted nothing. However, when Shane started to cough up blood I was convinced that it wasn’t my doing. As Miami had explained, John’s love for Veronica was successfully slaying the soulless.

“What the hell, Shane?” Tim cried, “He didn’t even hit you that hard!”

“I-I’m dying.” he sputtered. The sound of him suffering was music to my ears.

“Get up you fucking drama queen!” Tim commanded, “You’re making Mercury look good. We can’t let that happen.”

“I always look good, darling. There’s nothing you can do about it.” I said, giving Delilah another gentle stroke as she fell asleep in my arms.

“I wouldn’t be so smug if I were you.” Tim scoffed, “Any second now, the prince is going to—“

As if on cue, Paul burst through the door. I shrank back against the wall when I met his predatory stare aimed directly at me.

“Ah, speak of the devil.” Tim laughed.

“Literally.” Roger muttered.

How the hell was I going to get out of this? I could only begin to fathom the despicable things Paul had in mind for our time together. Knowing what Shane did to John was no additional comfort.

“Alright!” Paul hollered, “Staffell, get everyone back to their cells except for Mercury.”

“Good luck, Freddie.” Elton whispered.

“Thank you, darling. I’m going to need all the luck I can get.”

I didn’t want to hurt Delilah, but I was holding her so tightly that I was sure she had to feel something. Thankfully, she was still sleeping soundly in my arms. “Roger, if anything happens to me, take care of Delilah.”

“Don’t talk like that, Freddie. You’ll take him down like you did Shane.” His confidence in me was uplifting because for once I lacked confidence in myself. I knew that this breakdown in my self esteem was exactly what Paul wanted, but it didn’t change how scared I felt. Regardless, I tried to hide my fears as Paul stormed toward me, shoving past Elton and Roger with no regard. They were nothing more than pawns to him anyway.

It took all of my willpower to wake up Delilah with a gentle tap so I could place her back on the ground peacefully. As much as it calmed me to hold her, I refused to expose her to Paul’s wicked tricks. Delilah was simply too innocent to get involved in any of this. She fussily mewed and stayed by my feet. “No, darling. Go to Uncle Roggie. He’ll take good care of you.”

“Your cat can stay with us.” Paul said, and I nearly screamed as he had the audacity to pick up _my_ Delilah.

“Watch yourself, Prenter.” I growled my fear melting away with rage. Like I said, darlings, don’t ever fuck with my cats.

“He means business.” Roger supported me, “Hand over the cat and no one gets hurt.”

“Staffell, get pretty boy out of here!” Paul snarled, “I need to be alone with Freddie.”

“Then be alone with me. Just with me, but not with Delilah.” I made it clear.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Roger and Tim getting into a physical quarrel, but my focus remained on the poor kitty in the devil’s hands. I had to keep Delilah safe. No matter what happened to me protecting Delilah was my goal. Soon Paul got his wish. Time managed to escort Roger out, and now Paul was completely alone with me, Delilah and the pigs.

“Such a quiet and well behaved pet you are.” Paul cooed, looking at me despite addressing the Delilah, “So obedient.”

“Put her down!” I shouted.

“Why?” Paul asked innocently, “I think she likes me. Listen, she’s purring.”

Sure enough, Delilah was relaxing into his touch and purring ever so slightly. It was almost as if Paul was lulling her into a false sense of security. Regardless of how affectionate Delilah was being, I would never trust Paul with her.

“In fact, I think all of the animals love me.” As Paul said this, the pigs began to gravitate towards him. They pranced around his feet, parading him with adoring oinks of fondness. Somehow it didn’t seem natural. I knew for sure that something was off when the final cute piglet aggressively nipped at my leg before joining the group encircling Paul.

“You’re hypnotizing them.” I realized.

“How could I ever hypnotize them? Be reasonable. They just seem to prefer me over you. Isn’t the right, Delilah?”

Delilah looked up at me and hissed, foaming slightly at the mouth as she bared her teeth before snuggling back against Paul contentedly. “No.” I whispered in disbelief.

“Don’t be so surprised. You’ll find that most people and creatures in this world have a cruel underbelly. Your family, your friends, your lovers, they don’t really care about you. They pity you and are only being nice to you out of sympathy. _I’m_ the only person who really loves you, Freddie. That’s why I’m doing all this. I want to save you.”

There was something so surreal behind Paul’s eyes. I simply couldn’t will myself to look away. In the back of my mind, I could feel my common sense slowly starting to slip away and go numb. Everything I knew was being tucked under a thick, blinding blanket. For now there was just Paul and his words were true. Fuck! No! They weren’t. They were flat out lies. I ripped the blanket back up trying maintain a semblance of sanity. Paul didn’t love me. He was manipulating me. Brian, Roger and Deaky would do anything for me. Jim and Mary were my soulmates and loved me fully. Paul was straying me away from the people who truly mattered in my life.

“I can save you if you let me.” Paul said, “If you become mine, I promise you’ll never be alone. You won’t be with these people who only claim to love you but really want to hurt you. You’ll be with someone who really cares.”

“My friends and loved ones would never hurt me.” I said, more to reinforce the idea into my own brain than to argue with Paul. They wouldn’t hurt me. Paul was the only one who would hurt me. My bandmates loved me. Jim and Mary loved me. They wouldn’t hurt me…Paul wouldn’t hurt me. My bandmates and soulmates would hurt me. Wait. No. Was that right?

“That’s it.” Paul’s soothing voice reaffirmed my beliefs. He wouldn’t hurt me. He loved me. The others would hurt me because they didn’t love me.

“Very good.” He praised, “I knew I would have you eventually. You’ve taken much longer to submit than my other claims, but it was only a matter of time until my hypnotic spell could reach you.”

“I’m alone.” I realized, “They don’t love me. None of them love me.”

“They don’t.” Paul confirmed with a smirk.

I was never one to wallow in misery or self pity, but the damn burst and I found myself sobbing. “I’m just a poor boy and nobody loves me.”

“Mmm, you’re so beautiful when you cry, my little Persian.” Paul exhaled, his eyes gleaming yellow. As I weeped, I felt some of my energy being seeped out of my soul and transferred into his power. I blinked, temporarily gaining back my self awareness, again removing myself from beneath the suffocating blanket. This was why Paul was so interested in me. I was his vessel, and he was feeding himself off of my melancholy blues. Paul’s grasp over my mind was difficult to thwart, but I knew I had to fight him off somehow. If I gave in, he would only become stronger and use his evil power to create more oppressive rules to block love and light in the world. For a moment I thought I had overcome Paul’s hypnotic trance as his eyes were no longer yellow, and he groaned angrily. “That asinine soul reader told you and your pathetic friends what I am, didn’t he?”

“Miami and my friends are a far cry from asinine and pathetic.” I said, “You on the other hand, my dear, are outright vile.”

As Paul lunged at me, I finally put my boxing skills to good use, punching him like I did Shane. Delilah leapt from his arms, and after making sure she and the piggies were a safe distance away, I let loose. I managed to sock Paul right in the face again, giving him a bloody nose.

“Oh you really shouldn’t have done that, not when you know what I am and what I’m capable of doing.” Paul said as he wiped the blood from his nose. “You may be strong willed enough to overpower my hypnosis because you’re aware of the threat I present, but the same doesn’t ring true for your loved ones. I can turn them all against you just like I did with the animals.”

As I went in for another punch, I felt Delilah clawing me from behind. I looked down to see her digging her sharp nails into the back of my leg viciously. The pant leg of my jumpsuit was starting to tear from the impact. “Delilah, no!” I cried, “Lovie, you don’t know what you’re doing. Please stop. This is isn’t you, darling.”

“You think this is bad, imagine what I can do to your human companions.” Paul sneered.

“My bandmates won’t fall for your tricks because like me they know that you’re a soulless.” I declared, still trying to kick Delilah off of my leg without hurting the poor thing.

“Oh I wasn’t referring to your bandmates, but we are getting off track.” Paul held up his hand, and Delilah thankfully backed down, “As your party supervisor, I am obligated to discuss your contract with you.”

How many times did I need to go over this bloody contract? I could imagine Paul taking so much pleasure and gaining so much power from watching me waste away without a voice. There was no way in hell I’d ever give him that satisfaction. So I returned to my original plan and tested my luck with more boxing. This time, however, Paul anticipated my move, and grabbed my arm before I could attack. His fingers moved so quickly that I couldn’t fully register the sequence of numbers he tapped into my bracelet. Suddenly, I felt tingly and lightheaded. Before I could figure out what was happening, I fell backward. When I tried to sit back up or make any sort of movement, my body completely failed me. It felt numb, and my brain offered no control. I was paralyzed.

“Have you ever been flash frozen before?” Paul asked condescendingly, “I’m afraid it isn’t very pleasant. You have about ten minutes left until your body stops conducting regular circulatory and respiratory activity on its own. Then you’ll need to be hooked up to machines in order to stay alive.”

‘ _This isn’t happening.’_ Was all I could think as I stared up at the ceiling, praying that this was all a nightmare.

“Of course, I can undo all of this with just a few taps. All I would have to do is plug in the code to your bracelet, and it’ll recalibrate your body. You’ll function again just perfectly. We can forget this whole thing ever happened.” Paul continued, “The only thing I ask for in return is your cooperation. Blink twice if you understand.”

With the one capability I had left, I decided to still fight back. I blinked three times just to fuck with him.

“Fine. Don’t accept my help. Stay this way forever. It certainly works out for me. You’ll have a miserable existence. I’ll grow more powerful fueling from your depression because a lifestyle like this, if you even want to call it a lifestyle, will lead to depression very quickly.”

Obviously, I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life as a vegetable, but I considered Paul’s words very carefully. The “help” he was willing to offer me had to be some sort of trap. Otherwise, he would want me to remain paralyzed like this. He just outright said so.

“I flash froze a claim of mine not too long ago. It was fun, but the machines got in the way. You see in order to play with him, I always had to abide by the hospital hours, and there was always a nurse or doctor watching. We never truly alone. Eventually, I just unhooked him and watched him die within a few minutes.” Paul reflected.

How long did I have again? Ten minutes. I could feel the first signs of my body beginning to shut down. If Paul didn’t quit his torturous monologuing and either hook me up to a machine or give me back my body, I’d be long gone.

“So, no I don’t plan on keeping you like this for much longer. Rest assured, I’ll restore your functions before you die. I have other plans for you. Still…” He exhaled, nostrils flaring as he lustfully stared down at me, “seeing you so defenseless like this is so exhilarating.”

Black spots swirled around my vision and I felt even more lightheaded than before. When Paul leaned down, I internally screamed, but was unable to do anything to stop him. In the meantime, my heart sped out of control and my lungs tightened. I realized I was on the brink of death as Paul kissed me. “Shame you can’t kiss back.” He sighed, pressing his mouth harder against my unresponsive lips. The dizziness continued, but through my splitting headache and blurring vision I could make out Paul holding something up in the air preparing to plunge it down into my body. Could it be a knife? Around that point, I stopped breathing altogether. I wasn’t sure if I was having a panic attack or climbing ever closer to my demise. The black swirls completely consumed my eyes, and I saw nothing. However, I no longer felt numb. There was an intense stinging pain my abdomen.

“Fuck!” I was surprised to hear my voice again as my vision return and my lungs opened up again. The pain didn’t subside. Paul was tightly grasping my wrist as he removed his digits from my bracelet. “See. I told you I didn’t plan on keeping you flash frozen.” All I could focus on was the bloody dagger clutched in his other hand. Paul smirked as I looked down at the source of my pain. “I hope you get the message.” A knife cut had slashed through my jumpsuit revealing the words ‘ _Prenter’s Bitch’_ etched into my skin. “Fuck.” I repeated as I noted the blood seeping out from the fresh wound. He branded me. Horrified, I looked away, feeling absolutely sick to my stomach.

“Now back to your contract.” Paul drawled on casually as if I weren’t in agony, “I redrafted it. You’ll find the new copy on your bracelet. If you sign it now, you can get out of here.”

“And be sent to your sex dungeon instead?” I assumed, “No fucking thank you, darling. I’d rather stay here and bleed out and die.”

“You’ll actually be living with me in the palace. For the record, I have a normal bedroom, not a sex dungeon. If you’re behaved, I’ll let you out every once and a while.” he explained, “Instead of being an architect, your job will be to keep me satisfied. Oh, and the surgeries have remained the same of course. Your vocals will be removed and your mouth and jaw restructured for your new teeth. We can’t have anyone hear you screaming for help, now can we.”

“So it’s the same exact contract, but instead of living my depressing voiceless life with Mary as an architect, I’ll be your sex slave?” I summed up.

“Precisely! Now you understand what I want…what I _need_ to make me strong.”

“You’re not getting a damn thing from me Prenter! I’m not signing anything. That much hasn’t changed.” I grunted through the pain. As much as I wanted to ignore my new found deformity and reminder of Paul’s claim over me, the bleeding still hadn’t stopped, and the pain remained constant.

“They all say that when they first figure out that I survive off of their negative energy. When will they learn?” He laughed, “Anyway, it’s funny you should bring up Mary.” I cringed when he said my love’s name. “You should have heard the things she had to say about you in interrogation.”

“You’re lying. I purposely kept Mary in the dark, so she wouldn’t have to deal with the likes of you.”

“She knows you’re a fag.”

I spat in Paul’s face mainly because I didn’t have the energy to strike him again. I wanted to continue our boxing match and beat him to the ground, but it was too excruciating to get up from my crouched position on the floor.

“Mary hates you, Freddie.” Paul wiped the spit off his cheek, “How could you ever believe that she loves you after you left her for a man? She wants you dead. She told me that you deserve to burn in hell.”

“Mary would never say that!” I shouted. Even if it was true, Mary wouldn’t say it. She loved me despite my sin.

“Alright. I can work with that.” Paul decided, picking up on my vulnerable thoughts, “You’re going to hell, Freddie. Your very existence is repugnant.”

“You really are working off of my insecurities, darling,” I recalled Miami’s warnings, “but calling me a fag and telling me I’m going to hell won’t work because I know you also fuck men. If you want to emotionally torment me, you’re going to need to try a bit harder.”

“No more darlings.” Paul said abruptly. When I looked up at him quizzically, he elaborated, “From now on the only person you call darling or dear is me. You got that, Mercury? I’ve claimed those pet names just like I’ve claimed you.”

“Your hypnosis is failing.” I reminded him, “You can’t dictate what I call people.”

“I can’t, but your contract can.”

I rolled my eyes. “Now we’re just talking in circles. I’m not signing that bloody thing!”

“You will after you see what I—“

“Freddie!”

“Roger?” I gasped as the drummer came running to my rescue alongside Miami. I couldn’t be more relieved to see the two of them.

“What the fuck did you do to him?” Roger shouted, lunging himself at Paul with absolutely no restraint.

“Are you alright?” Miami came to my side, allowing Roger to work out his frustrations. I said nothing and simply watched as the blonde went up against Paul. Roger was able to handle himself pretty well against the soulless until the shocks kicked in. Attacking the Prince of Rhye was a major infraction no doubt and the shocks will reflect that.

“Freddie, you’re bleeding.” Miami noted tearing my attention away from the fight.

“No!” I recoiled, trying to cover the hideous marking with my hand, but it was too late. Miami had seen it. He knew I was branded, and I felt ashamed.

“Come on. I’ll take you to the infirmary.” Miami said gently. The thought of nurses and doctors looking over the disgusting wound was almost too much to bare, but I knew I needed medical attention.

“Can Delilah come?” I asked softly.

Miami walked over to where the cat was seated. When he picked her up, his pupils flashed white. After his eyes reverted back to normal, he handed her over to me. Delilah didn’t hiss or claw me. She just gave me comforting kisses and cuddles which I truly needed right now.

“Only the soulless are cruel enough to use dark magic on animals.” Miami shook his head, “Thankfully, it’s easier to reverse the hypnosis on them than on humans. If Delilah were human, there wouldn’t be much I could do to help. You’re very powerful to be able to resist Paul’s spell you know.”

I turned to see Roger take a particular nasty kick from Paul, and fall to the ground. Paul was bruised from my blow to his nose and additional assaults from Roger, but it wasn’t enough. It could never make up for the scar he left on my body.

“You can’t protect him forever.” Paul told Miami, “Soon I’m going to become powerful enough to banish all of the soul readers like you. There won’t be anymore soulmates, and happiness will die. The world will become a feeding ground for the soulless!”

“You’ve already killed happiness with the New Order.” Roger sputtered.

Optimism was key to defeating the soulless, but I couldn’t help but feel that Roger’s dismal outlook was correct. Plus, one look down at my throbbing abdomen reminded me that Paul was on the verge of killing my own happiness. I hate to leave you on such a bleak note, my darlings, but after this torturous ordeal, I need my rest in the infirmary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eek! This chapter was very hard for me to write. I promise there will be a happy ending to make up for all the trauma. I’d appreciate some feedback. What are your opinions on the dark turn this story is taking? I’ll try to update soon, hopefully within the next week, but I have a lot of school work to catch up on. Stay tuned!


	14. I Want to Break Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger accidentally ends up in the women's infirmary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know it was rough, but hopefully we all survived that last chapter! I promise this story won’t get much darker from here on out. This chapter is more on the humorous side to make up for all the heaviness. I know that the last few chapters and the plot in general have been gravitating around Freddie, so I think I’m going to focus on the other band members. These next chapters will be about Roger and Brian and I plan to write more about Deaky later on as well. Of course, since the main plot has naturally shifted towards this Freddie vs Paul arc, there will still be focus on Freddie as well, but it won’t be the center of these next few chapters.
> 
> Just as a general reminder and also a PSA for other fanfictions, this is all fictional and purely for fun. I don’t mean any disrespect towards Queen or any of the real people mentioned in this story. So just enjoy it as fans and don’t send it to Queen or the Bohemian Rhapsody cast or anyone else who might find it offensive.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and showing your support! I love hearing all of your comments and feedback. (Special thanks to Fanny Quicksilver for suggesting that I bring Iman into the story) <3

_Roger’s POV_

I didn’t remember passing out, but that usually happened when I got too drunk and then woke up in a completely different place. Only I knew this time I hadn’t gotten wasted. For one thing my memories came flooding back to me faster than they normally would. Upon opening my eyes, I immediately recalled Tim kicking me out of the pig pen and the two of us getting into a fight. As soon as Tim backed off, I had signaled Miami to let me back into the pig pen and rescue Freddie from Paul. From there, I got into another fight with Paul, and I probably would have won if my stupid bracelet didn’t shock me so hard. So…where was I now? I was laying a bed, and there was a curtain in front of me. I figured I was transferred to the infirmary. Maybe if I asked nicely I could get some pain meds (not that I was any pain if you catch my drift). Since arriving at the rebel camp, I hadn’t had any access to drugs or alcohol, and the withdrawal was really starting to get to me. A nurse drew the curtain clueing me in that this was the infirmary. She was carrying a clipboard, staring down at it with disgruntled pursed lips. “How are you feeling, Taylor?” She asked apathetically without looking up from the clipboard.

If I could get her to look up and see me I might be able to flirt my way into the drugs. Of course batting my blue eyes would be pointless if the nurse refused to tear her eyes away from the clipboard. “I’m in some pain. Maybe there’s something you can do about it.” I drawled.

“Not much I can do, honey. I’m just here to tell you that you’ll be spending the next few days here while we wait for your ankle to heal. It’s just a sprain, so you should be able to walk. Feel free to wander around and visit the other girls. Just don’t travel beyond the door with the blue markings on it. That leads to the men’s rebel infirmary.”

Maybe I was already high. I processed what she just told me and realized there was a mixup. The nurse was already leaving when I called after her. “Wait! I didn’t sprain my ankle, and I’m not—“

“—Don’t make my job any harder.” The nurse cut me off sharply, “It says right here on your chart rebel Taylor Swift admitted to the infirmary for a sprained ankle. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have fifteen other girls to tend to on this shift.”

“Taylor who?” I blurted.

She finally looked up but only for the briefest second, barely taking in my appearance. “Blonde hair, blue eyes, 5’10. Yeah you match the description, so don’t play games.”

“But I’m not—“

“—Rebels!” She scoffed and walked away.

Okay. This wouldn’t be the first time I was mistaken for a girl. Although that didn’t make the situation any less humiliating. How could this happen? Were our files mixed up or something? I mean Ms. Swift had my last name as her first, and apparently our descriptions (blonde hair, blue eyes, 5’10) matched, so it could be possible.

I decided to use this little mistake to my advantage. After all, sex was even more difficult to come by than the drugs in the camp. I could certainly use some interaction with the opposite sex before clearing up the confusion and transferring myself back to the men’s infirmary. I kicked the sheet off of my body and got up to explore. Rogerina was officially on the prowl. “Watch out, bitches. Here I come!” I declared as I drew the curtain.

Naturally, I got a lot of stares as I walked up and down the rows of beds. Most had the curtains drawn, but for the ones that didn’t, the girls were sitting up in their beds able to gawk. I noticed a lot of blue flashes from bracelets and couldn’t help but return the flirty smiles and winks some of the girls were giving me. My bracelet was going off as well, flashing blue like never before. I had seriously never seen it this bright. There must have been a lot of estrogen in the room, so I couldn’t help but feel attracted. I eyed all the beauties in hospital gowns, trying to determine who my bracelet shone the brightest blue for. The flashes were so repetitious that I couldn’t even tell which individuals they were targeting. Blue, blue, blue, pink, blue—Wait! Pink. I saw it again. The blue suddenly stopped, and all I saw was pink. Shit! That could only mean one thing…

“Roger?”

“Dominique!”

I spun around to face her, surprised to see that she was actually smiling. Could my charm make up for the fact that I left her without bothering to say goodbye? In fact, Dom had been the last thing on my mind when I made my choice to reject the contract. I knew I had a lot of explaining to do, but before I could even open my mouth, Dom was suffocating me in a big hug. “Oh, Rog! I’m so, so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?” She whispered.

I was still partially convinced that I was somehow high. Or perhaps this was all some grand hallucination from pain medications. Why was Dominique apologizing to me?

“You must’ve been so upset with me when you went to exchange rings only to find out that I left without saying goodbye.” She summed up what I had done to her in a nutshell, “I’m sorry. The last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you.”

This was a trap. It had to be. There was no way Dom was being serious right now. She knew that the only way to get me to own up to my betrayal was to make it seem like she had done it to me and not the other way around.

“Roggie, please say something. You’re scaring me.” She stared up at me, desperately with tears in her eyes. Dom was never a good actress. Maybe this was real. She was still awaiting a response from me.

“So you also got a fucked up contract?” What else was there to ask? If it were true, then the only reason Dom ended up here was because of the contract.

Dom cringed at how blunt I was and pulled away from our embrace. “Are you mad?” she asked timidly.

“Hardly. I did the same to you.” I admitted, “I said take me to the fucking rebel camp and I didn’t look back.”

“That bad of a deal, huh?” Dom surprisingly laughed.

“You have no idea. Why’d you reject yours?”

“Um…Do you remember the first time we slept together?” Her cheeks were burning red.

I wasn’t sure where she was going with this, but I thought back. I certainly remembered the _last_ time we slept together. It had been far too long since then in my opinion.

“I told you I loved you.” She attempted to jog my memory.

“Sure, sure I remember now.” I lied. I remembered us sleeping together, and I remembered her telling me she loved me. It didn’t matter if I remembered the first or last time those things happened. I remembered that they did happen and that was good enough for me. “Anyway, I also love you.” I said just to make sure I wasn’t getting myself into too much trouble, “So what does this have to do with your contract?”

“I told you I loved you, and then you sang to me.”

Oh yeah. I actually did remember that now. I told her I loved her back and then I decided to sing to her even though no one was supposed to know that I sang and played instruments. The moment was, dare I even say it, romantic. I wasn’t one to believe in all the soulmate stuff even after meeting a real live matchmaker, but when my feelings for Dom drove me to make grand and even dangerous gestures on her behalf it did make me reconsider the notion. I cared about Dom a lot, and if I were going to settle down (that’s a big if), it would no doubt be with her.

“I’ve been obsessed with your falsetto ever since.” Dom sighed, “I just…enjoy listening to you speak. I know it’s not the same as you singing, but it’s the closest I can get.”

“Babe, if you wanted me to sing for you, you could’ve just asked.”

“I don’t like it when you get shocked. I hate it when you do stupid things and end up getting hurt. Speaking of which, should I even ask what happened to your face? You have a scratch on your cheek.”

That was likely due to my fights with Paul and Tim, but I didn’t want to get Dom off track. Now I was genuinely curious about her contract. I shrugged off my minor injury. “It’s part of being a rebel. So, what does my wondrous falsetto have to do with your contract?”

“They wanted me to…well…I loved your voice and music in general a little too much.”

I nodded waiting for her to go more in depth, but Dom was hesitant. Whatever they wanted her to do, could it really be as bad as what they had in store for me?

“I…I would have to go through a surgery that would mess with my auditory nerves. I’d come out deaf.”

Those bastards! Dominique made the right decision, and I was so grateful that she chose correctly. No one should have to purposefully quell one of their five senses. The thought was terrifying and unimaginable.

“So, I guess at the end of the year, I’ll either be deaf or flash frozen.” Dom said dismally, and as she sniffled I realized she was fighting back her tears. Damn it! I hated it when she cried. It broke my heart.

“No, you won’t.” I reassured her, “I think there’s a way out.”

“What do you mean? They made it quite clear when I arrived. Those are my only two options.”

Miami wanted me to keep the whole soulless thing a secret, but rules were for suckers. Paul and his narrow minded cronies proved that rules created unhappiness. Besides, the more people who knew the truth the better. “It’s a long story, but Prince Prenter is a demon monster who feeds off of unhappiness, and he’s on a quest to destroy my friend, Freddie, but we can defeat him with love, and when we do, the New Order will be conquered and we’ll be free.” I said all in one breath.

Dom shook her head. “Roger, you’re high again, aren’t you?”

“No! I’ve been sober since I’ve arrived at the camp, and I feel like shit. I’m telling you the truth, Dom. You need to believe me.”

“How did you get here anyway? You should be in the men’s infirmary.” She said dismissively.

“My files got mixed up with someone else’s. I’m sure they’ll have it sorted out soon. In the meantime, I’m stuck here with all the ladies, so I’m not complaining.”

“Uh-huh,” Dom huffed and crossed her arms against her chest, “and I doubt _all_ the ladies make your bracelet turn pink.”

‘ _No.’_ I thought, ‘ _But they make my bracelet turn blue as a sky, or a freshly painted blue sports car.’_ “You’re my girl, Dom. You know that.” I said out loud.

“Yeah I know.” She said with a small smile and placed a chaste kiss on my lips.

“That’s all I’m getting? Just one little peck?” I pouted, “Dom, I’ve missed you.” As I said the words I realized they were true. I did miss Dominique a lot. She kept crossing my mind despite all the chaos and drama. I even had a dream about her last night, and it was rather pleasant. Use your imagination if you want more details on that one.

“I’ve missed you, too, Rog.” This time she gave me a better kiss which I eagerly returned. It had been far too long since we…

Misreading the signals, I pulled aside one of the curtains in the hopes of finding an empty bed. Thankfully, I didn’t intrude on anyone’s privacy and the bed on the other side was vacant. Oh how perfect for what I had in mind! However, when I glanced back at Dom, I saw her walking away. “Come on! I want you to meet my friends.” She gestured for me to follow. Well, there went my chance at getting laid. With nothing else to do, I trailed her like a lost puppy. Dominique led me to the bed on the far end of the room, adjacent to the door with the blue markings I was warned to avoid. There were three lovely ladies playing with a makeshift set of cards clearly homemade like our paper Scrabble set. I recognized one of the girls as John’s girlfriend, Veronica. Anyone who helped John overcome Shane’s torment was a friend of mine.

“Roger, I’d like you to meet my friends Veronica, Anita, and Iman.” Dom pointed out who was who, “Girls, this is my boyfriend, Roger.”

I grinned when I noticed all three of their bracelets flashing blue. Of course, the only thing Dom noticed was that the flashing pink on my bracelet was taking on a blue hue. “Gross, Roggie! These are my friends! Don’t make this weird. Besides, Veronica is taken.”

“Calm down, Dom.” Iman said, “You know it doesn’t mean anything. He thinks we’re pretty, and we think he’s handsome. We should all be flattered.”

“Exactly.” I exclaimed.

“So, how did you manage to sneak in here without getting caught?” Anita inquired.

“It was a bit of a misunderstanding.” I downplayed.

“But the important thing is that he’s here and we could use his help for our little plan.” Dominique whispered.

“What plan?” I asked only to be shushed by all four of them.

Veronica drew the curtain so that we could have some amount of privacy, but there was still a camera in the corner of the room.

“Watch out, girls!” Iman shrieked, “There’s a spider on the sheets!”

Before I could point out to her that there was no sign of any spiders, she shooed the other two off the bed, and frantically ripped the sheet and tossed it away. The white canvas just happened to sprawl above the camera, and I understood what was going on. “That trick never fails.” She snickered.

“It might still be able to pick up our voices. So speak softly.” Veronica whispered.

“Alright, Roger, here’s what’s going on.” Dominique said in a lowered voice, “None of us are really sick or injured as you can see. We just get the most freedom in the infirmary. We don’t have to go to work and we can walk around and mingle with the others.”

“So you’re faking?” I gasped, “That’s brilliant. Why didn’t I think of that? Do you think we’re allowed to roam around like this in the men’s infirmary?”

“How would we know? Every time we get near that blue door, we get shocked or the nasty nurse throws a fit.” Veronica explained, “And we really don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”

“We had to get ill in shifts, so no one would get suspicious.” Dom said, “First, I got the stomach flu. Then Ronnie fell out of bed, and finally Anita slipped in the shower.”

“I tore a muscle when I did my morning stretches.” Iman said, “Soon my cellmate, Chrissie, will be stubbing her toe. The real reason we’re doing all this is for her. Her year is almost over, and if she’s not up for parole, she’ll be flash frozen. We’re hoping we can help her escape once she gets here. We still don’t have a real plan mapped out, but we figured it would be easier to break free from here than from in the cell.”

Chrissie? Brian’s Chrissie? It had to be! I wondered if he knew that her year was almost up. Maybe the girls could come up with a decent plan to escape, and we could use a similar tactic to get Freddie far away from Paul. Either way, I was in. I wouldn’t be a rebel if I didn’t participate in a prison break. “How can I help?”

Suddenly, the curtain was pulled back again. The same uncaring nurse was now scowling at us. What was her problem? “Alright, ladies, we’re coming ‘round with meals, so keep the curtains pulled back. You need your strength if you ever want to get healthy.” I didn’t bother correcting her when she included me as one of the ladies. To save Chrissie I would have to keep up this guise.

“I think I need fresh air to feel better.” Dom said, “Are there any windows around here?”

“Only idiots would design a prison with windows. Don’t be daft, Veronica.” The nurse scoffed.

“I’m Dominique.”

“And I told you until I retrieve my lost spectacles I don’t give a shit. You’re all just blurs to me. When I catch whoever stole them, I swear I’ll have their sorry ass flash frozen on the spot.”

Ahh. That explained how she still didn’t recognize her mistake. I thought for sure that the nurse would realize I was a boy as soon as she got a good look at me without the clipboard. Clearly, that wasn’t the case. As someone with poor eyesight I sympathized, but it didn’t give her an excuse to be such a bitch. I wondered if women could be soulless like Paul Shane and Ray. I’d have to ask Miami.

“I’m sure your spectacles will show up soon.” Iman said. The other three suppressed giggles as if there was a joke I wasn’t aware of.

“For your sake, I hope you’re correct.” The nurse muttered as she walked away.

As soon as she was out of earshot, the girls all started laughing uncontrollably and now I knew that there was some sort of inside joke I wasn’t catching. “What is so funny?” I demanded. Iman soon clued me in by retrieving a broken pair of glasses stuffed between the mattress. “We stole ‘em!” She whispered.

“Why would you do that?” I joined in on the laughter. The real question was how. I needed to learn some of these rebellious tricks so I could test them out for myself.

“Because it’ll be so much easier for us to break free if the lady watching over our every move is blind as a bat.” Iman reasoned.

I noticed that they kept using “us” and “we” when describing their nonexistent plan. Something told me it wasn’t just Chrissie they were saving. “Are you all going to escape?” I asked and again I was shushed.

“I swear, Roggie, we’re going to have to tape your mouth shut!” Dominique hissed.

“Iman and I are going to escape alongside Chrissie.” Anita whispered, “Ronnie’s staying here, and Dom hasn’t made her mind up yet.”

“Yes I have.” Dom confidently reached for my hand, “We’re getting out.”

Hold on. Did “we” include me? Dom was still holding my hand and staring up at me as if she were waiting for me to say something. “What do you say, Roger?” she asked softly, “Wanna start over with me? We’ll destroy our bracelets and live on the outskirts of Rhye and rebuild with what’s leftover from the bombings.”

What the fuck? No! As much as I wanted to break free, I refused to settle down, and I definitely did not fancy living in rubble and ruins. Also, running away wouldn’t solve the bigger problem: Paul and the New Order. The bottom line was that we wouldn’t be free until Paul was stopped.

“You should come with us too, Ronnie.” Dom insisted.

“I’m not leaving without Deaky.” She said resolutely.

And neither was I. I couldn’t abandon John Brian and Freddie, especially not when Freddie needed us. They were my brothers. We were going to stay back and fight. There was no other choice.

“Veronica is right.” I said, “The answer isn’t running away. I know this sounds impossible to believe, but the New Order is only upheld by these magical demons who want to destroy love and happiness, and Prince Prenter is one of them.”

“You sound bloody mad.” Dom laughed.

Before I could argue with her, the bitter nurse returned our bed. She was balancing trays of food. It looked like today’s meal consisted of a slab of meat with potatoes. After the whole ordeal with the pigs, I had completely lost my appetite. I still had too much pride to apologize to Brian for mocking his diet even when I was considering it for myself now. Hopefully, the nurse’s faulty eyes would hold up when she got closer to me otherwise she would realize I wasn’t Taylor Swift. I held my breath as she handed me the final tray. Surprisingly, she spilled a handful of pills next to the cup. “These should help with your ankle pain. I hope you feel better soon, Taylor.”

Holy shit! It was too good to be true. I eagerly popped the pills into my mouth all at once afraid that they would be confiscated otherwise. As I reached for the cup of water, I couldn’t help but notice the nurse’s all too joyful smile which contrasted her entire demeanor and constant scowl from earlier. “Enjoy them! Prince Prenter specifically prescribed them for you. So, just try to relax and forget about everything.”

As soon as the nurse turned to leave, I coughed the pills back up. There was no way in hell the high would be worth it if Paul was the one behind it. I’d probably never return from the trip. I shuddered at the thought. In a frenzy, I counted the pills to ensure that I hadn’t accidentally swallowed any.

“Are you okay, Rog?” Dom asked.

“No! I’m not okay. I was almost poisoned!” I shouted.

She nodded, and for a moment I thought she understood the gravity of the situation. “I’m glad you came to your senses. Swallowing all of them at once like that could have killed you. You need to pace yourself.”

“I think we have another visitor.” Iman announced.

I looked up to see Miami briskly walking toward our bed. Oh good! He would sort all of this out. It was wonderful to see Dominique again, but it was about time that I got back to where I belonged. Miami always took on a serious demeanor, so it was difficult to tell whether or not he was mad. However, when he raised his voice, I knew I was in for the scolding of my life. “Roger Meddows Taylor, what do you think you’re doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question, Miami. What are you doing here?” I retorted.

“Freddie needs you and the boys now more than ever, and you’re here fooling around with women. Why do you think I chose Brian and Deaky over you originally?”

I was overcome with guilt. I still didn’t know what Paul had done to Freddie back in the pigpen, but Freddie’s jumpsuit was stained with blood, and there had been a spaced-out look in his dark eyes like he was gone. Miami was right. Mix up or not, I should have been trying to find Freddie to make sure he was okay. It was selfish of me to take advantage of the situation and scout out women when I should have been helping my friend.

“It’s alright.” Miami took on a softer tone, “I didn’t mean to yell. I am just overwhelmed by Paul’s power. I’ve never seen a soulless this keen on conquering the earth with his claim. It might actually be a good thing that you ended up here.”

“Really?” I asked skeptically.

He addressed the women who were staring up at him quizzically. “Ladies, I could use your help with something.”

“Who are you?” Veronica inquired.

“I am Jim Beach, Roger’s Party Supervisor, but evidently I’ve been given the nickname Miami and there is no way around that.”

“Miami’s a real live matchmaker, immortal and everything. He’s going to help us stop Prince Prenter.” I elaborated.

“In all of my years reading souls, I have never quite encountered a mortal more inferior at secret keeping than you.” Miami sighed, “But yes. That is all true. There is no time to answer your questions, but you must trust me if you want a chance at a better world.”

Iman and Dom appeared skeptical, but Veronica was nodding and Anita seemed to be pensively considering Miami’s words. She was the first to speak. “How can we help you, Miami?”

“I’m going to sneak you three into the men’s infirmary. Veronica, John is there. I think he’ll be very pleased to see you again. Iman, Anita, I’m not at liberty to tell you this, but you may be meeting your soulmates today.” Veronica’s eyes lit up at the mention of John, but the others still didn’t seem too convinced.

“Yes, but what do you want us to do?” Iman pushed.

“The way to defeat the soulless is spreading love and joy. Being with your soulmates will help bring about a positive energy to weaken Paul.” Miami explained.

“What about me?” Dom wondered, “I’m already with Roger.”

“Then just stay with me, babe.” I figured, taking her hand again, “Shouldn’t that work, Miami?”

“Yes. Stay with Roger and help him cheer up his friend, Freddie.”

She nodded. “Sounds simple enough.”

“I am about to break some major rules. I shouldn’t be intervening in the lives of humans, and I definitely shouldn’t be using magic, but I see no other choice. Paul has broken more rules than I have, and he must be stopped.” Miami snapped his fingers. Suddenly, we were standing in a nearly identical room except for the fact that there were men instead of women in the beds.

“You can teleport?” I blurted, realizing that we had somehow been transported to the men’s infirmary.

“I can do a lot of things, but I doubt your human mind can comprehend it all.”

I took that as an insult, so I came up with a witty comeback to prove to Miami that I wasn’t just some puny human. “Well I don’t need to teleport because I can drive.” Okay that one sounded better in my head, but it got my point across.

Eyeing the beds in search of Freddie, I paused when I saw someone who matched Brian’s description of our pen pal, Bowie. Poor bloke was stuck in the bed with a cast on his leg. I recalled Elton mentioning something about an accident. “Bowie?” I addressed him. He looked up and eyed me for a moment. “You’re not Freddie Mercury, so you must be Roger Taylor, Brian’s best friend.” I gasped, about to ask how Bowie was able to identify me, but he continued talking. “Yes, now I can happily say that I know all four of you in person. Freddie is down on the end if you want him. I should warn you, he’s not doing too well.”

“What happened to you?” I gestured to his leg.

“Quite silly actually. You see Elton and I were trying to save a piano from getting impounded and incinerated, and we accidentally dropped it on my foot in the process. No real harm done. The doctor said I’ll be up and walking again within a week, but I’m afraid I’ll be spending my time in here for a while.”

Bowie seemed to be in high spirits despite the injury. Still, I gave him some support. “Hang in there, mate. We’ll fake a few injuries so we can come and visit you. Maybe even write some music together. Who knows?” I received a shock for the mere suggestion, but it was so slight I barely noticed. Unfortunately, Bowie sensed my subtle tremble. “Don’t let those blasted bracelets get you down. If you ask me, they should be—“ His expression completely shifted as his eyes glazed off caught by something behind me. It was as if he were going into a trance. I turned around to see Iman approaching the bed, her bracelet flashing pink alongside Bowie’s. Oh! I awkwardly stepped out of the way to allow the soulmates to meet.

“Hello.” she spoke first, “My name is Iman.”

Bowie continued to stare at her speechlessly, and I nudged his shoulder gently. “You’re ravishing.” he blurted, “Are you sure you’re for me? You’re almost too good to be true.”

Iman blushed. “You’re a good flirt. Can I have your name?”

“Ziggy Stardust…I mean David Bowie. I’m sorry…You’ve left me absolutely speechless, my dear.”

I snickered at his incoherent babbles, but I couldn’t blame him, Iman was gorgeous. Dominique cleared her throat, and I remembered why I was here. “Why don’t we give them some privacy, and go find your friend.” Dom said. Sly Bowie had already managed to somehow steal a kiss by the time Dom drew the curtain.

Miami smiled as we left the two lovebirds to go at it. “No matter how many matches I oversee, it always warms my heart when the stars do align. This is the first time I’ve physically been on earth to witness an alignment though.”

“Yeah.” I remarked, realizing that my fingers were interlaced with Dom’s again, “It’s pretty nice.”

At long last, we reached the final row of beds, and Miami pulled back the curtain on one bed in particular. I peered inside to see Freddie lying in the bed, despondently staring down at his fingertips. Delilah was curled on his lap. There were crumpled pieces of paper and a discarded set of lyrics resting on the bed alongside him. He didn’t respond to the curtain unfurling and the arrival of guests. John was sitting on the edge of the bed. Unlike Freddie, he looked up, smiling softly when he saw Miami followed by Anita, Dom and me. Then John’s smile widened when Veronica joined us and drew the curtain behind her. “Ronnie!” He squealed leaping up from the bed to embrace her. “Deaky!” She proclaimed, welcoming his hug and kiss. I could sum up their reunion in one word: sweet.

“Where is Brian?” Miami asked, interrupting their kiss.

Brian was usually easy to spot, so his absence was quite obvious. Where the hell was he? I needed to tell him what I had found out about Chrissie.

“Bri went off with the cobbler. They’ll be back soon.” John said haphazardly, “Veronica, I can’t believe you’re here!”

“What cobbler?” Miami demanded.

“There was a cobbler who came to visit us earlier. Bloke seemed nice enough, claimed to be a fellow rebel. He was able to reclaim all the shoes that the party had confiscated and said he had a pair of clogs in Brian’s size. They went to go get them.”

“Clogs?” I snickered, “Oh, why am I not surprised!” To be honest, I was kind of jealous. If I were here when the cobbler showed up, I could have asked if he had a pair of pink converse. My favorite pair of shoes had been stolen by the party a long time ago around the time the New Order was put into place.

“And you didn’t find this suspicious at all? A cobbler comes out of nowhere and happens to have a pair of shoes in Brian’s exact size.” Miami cried.

For the first time since Veronica had arrived, John looked away from her. His eyes widened fearfully. “I thought we could trust him. He seemed trustworthy.” he whimpered.

“Don’t worry, Deaky.” I assured him, “Brian’s smart. I’m sure he wouldn’t have gone with the man if he thought something was off about him.”

“I told you two to stay here while I found Roger.” Miami groaned, “I don’t need you getting brainwashed by one of Paul’s minions.”

“Oh yeah. I should probably tell you. The nurse gave me pain pills, but I spit them out when she said they were from Paul.” I recounted.

“This is exactly what I was afraid of.” Miami exclaimed, “He’s using his dark magic to mess with Freddie’s support system.” Freddie didn’t even look up when his name was mentioned. I wasn’t sure what to do to help him, but I knew I had to do something.

“Of all of you, I thought Brian would be able to see past the manipulation.” Miami continued, “Stay here while I go find him and fix this mess. Don’t even think about leaving or going off with anymore mysterious cobblers who come your way.”

As Miami left, I sat down on the bed next to Freddie. This time he at least looked up at me to acknowledge my presence. That was a start, right? John sat down on Freddie’s other side. “Freddie, do you want to show Roger the new song you were working on?”

“I’m afraid it isn’t any good.” Freddie sighed, picking up the lyric sheet, “I think I’ll discard it with the rest.” I snatched the paper from him before he could crumple it and toss it into the pile of forgotten songs.

‘ _I've paid my dues_

_Time after time_

_I've done my sentence_

_But committed no crime_

_And bad mistakes_

_I've made a few_

_I've had my share of sand kicked in my face._

_But I deserve it all.’_

“It’s good.” I insisted, “Kind of depressing, but good.”

“No, darling, it’s not good.” Freddie sounded more like himself again. He crossed out the last line replacing it with _‘But I will come through.’_ “When I’m ready I’ll change it to I’ve come through, but I’m not quite there yet.”

“You will be.” I promised him, “You’ll get through this, Freddie. Brian, Deaky and I will be here at your side…even though Bri’s off with some strange cobbler, you still have his support. We’ll help you overcome this.”

Freddie was completely focused on the lyrics in his hands, and I felt like my whole motivational pep talk didn’t reach him. “So what do you think of it now? Still too depressing?”

“I told you it’s good. I mean it’s no I’m in Love with my Car,” I joked, “but it’s still good.”

John gasped as Freddie laughed. “You did it, Rog! I’ve been trying to get him to crack a smile this whole time, and all of a sudden you show up and now he’s talking and laughing.”

“Don’t worry, Deaky.” Freddie said, “I just need some time, but thank you for that laugh, Roger, darling. I really needed it.”

And just like that, I knew everything was going to be okay. Say what you will about I’m in Love with my Car, but in this case, my song really did save the day. Now if Brian could just sort out his business with the cobbler, everything would be perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I hope this was worth the wait! What do you think? The next chapter will go more in depth on this mysterious cobbler and where he took Brian. Are the car jokes with Roger getting old? Probably. Am I going to stop? Not a chance. Don’t laugh though, I actually really like the song. I especially like to listen to it while driving. Roger’s voice is made for rock and roll. He’s the best singer to not be a front man in my opinion. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. I’ll try to post soon, but school has to come first.


	15. Caviar and Cigarettes (and Clogs?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian gets himself into trouble with a mysterious cobbler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we’re back to the angst! Last chapter was a fun break, but now we’re going to see more of Freddie’s recovery (through Brian’s eyes) and find out what is happening with that crazy cobbler. As always, I love you all and thank you so much for your continued comments and commitment to this story. I never expected to get this many positive responses and it truly means that world to me. Enjoy!

_Brian’s POV_

(Earlier)

It seemed like I had just fallen back asleep when Miami burst into the room again. Freddie and Roger’s bunks were empty, so I assumed they were at their shifts. John was still sleeping.

“You both have paper cuts. We’re going to the infirmary. I’ll explain on the way. Get up!” Miami ordered before I could fully wake myself up.

“Paper cuts bad.” John slurred in his sleep, “Cheese toast good.” Well, it was obvious what he was dreaming about.

“C’mon, Deaky.” I descended from my bunk and wandered over to his to get him up with a gentle shake. “It’s time to get up.”

“Alright.” He sighed groggily.

Miami tapped his foot impatiently while John and I attempted to get ready. I was still half asleep, so I hadn’t taken in what Miami was saying. “Hang on.” I said as I headed toward the door after brushing my teeth, “Did you say we were going to the infirmary?”

“Yes. We have paper cuts.” John muttered.

“Paul attacked Freddie. He’s in the infirmary. I need an excuse to get you there so you can cheer him up. He’s in really bad shape.” Miami explained.

“No!” I cried.

Our one job was to keep Freddie away from Paul, and we failed. One look at John’s pale sunken face told me he was also sulking in the guilt of being unable to help our friend.

“Maybe you should bring the Red Special?” John suggested, “We could have a jam session to lift Freddie’s spirits.”

I didn’t even think twice about it. Yes, bringing the precious instrument anywhere with me put it at great risk of being discovered and confiscated again, but what was the point of having a guitar if I couldn’t even play it? Besides, music seemed like the best and easiest way to make Freddie happy, and that was the goal. I cradled the Red Special and placed it gently back down into the box. “Be safe.” I whispered and closed the lid.

Miami took the box from me so it wouldn’t look as suspicious. People were less likely to bat eyes at a party supervisor with a box than a rebel. I noticed he was also holding what appeared to be a gift basket for Freddie. Hopefully whatever was in there would help as well. “Try to look ill so you don’t stand out.” Miami whispered as we made our way to the infirmary.

“How do you go about looking ill?” John asked.

“Just keep your head down and don’t smile.” I advised.

Thankfully, we had no trouble sneaking into the infirmary as Miami filled out some papers and handed them over to a nurse. Unquestioningly, the nurse let us in and pointed to two open beds. “You can roam around, but don’t go anywhere near the door with the pink markings.” He warned, “That leads to the women’s infirmary.”

“I just need to question them.” Miami, said forcing his way in alongside us, “The party wants an official account for injured rebels.”

“Well, that was easy.” I said under my breath as the nurse turned his back.

“They leave the rebel infirmary open and lenient like this on purpose so they can spread contagions amongst you as a sort of punishment. By the way, try not to touch anything. Your human eyes can’t pick up on all the germs in here, but strains of the latest flu are rampant and floating all around your heads as we speak.” Miami said somewhat casually.

I wouldn’t put disease warfare past the party. They already took everything else from us, so why not just add our health to the list. I was pulled out of my dire thoughts when John shifted awkwardly, sputtering slightly and eventually turning blue. Immediately catching on, I elbowed him, and he exhaled. “Deaky,” I reprimanded, “holding your breath won’t stop you from getting sick. It’ll just make you lightheaded.” “I had the flu once. I had to stay in bed for two weeks straight. It was horrible.” He justified, “I’m not going through that again.”

“You’ll be fine.” Miami said, “Just wash your hands whenever you can.” He stopped us at a bed with a curtain drawn. “Now, if the records are correct, Roger should be in here.”

“Roger!” I gasped, “What happened to Roger?”

“He got into a scuffle with Tim and Paul, nothing too serious. I have to give the boy credit. He held out pretty well against a soulless.” Miami said, “Anyway, we need him to support Freddie.”

I prayed he wasn’t downplaying Roger’s injuries and it really was nothing too serious. If Roger was suffering, then how could he be expected to help Freddie as well? Miami drew the curtain, and I expected to meet the blue eyes of my best friend. Well…I was met with a pair of blue eyes alright. They just weren’t Roger’s.

“Hi. I’m Taylor.” The girl said. I wasn’t amused and responded by closing the curtain. So much for not touching anything. Oh well.

“Where the fuck is Roger?” I demanded, surprised where my sudden venom had come from. I guess I was just concerned about him. I loved Freddie and John as well, but I was closest with Roger.

“They must have mixed up his files or he pulled a prank to get into the women’s infirmary.” Miami reasoned.

“I wouldn’t put that past him.” I sighed, feeling somewhat better now about Roger’s whereabouts.

“Let’s find Freddie first, and then we can sort out whatever trouble Roger got himself into.” John said.

“I’ll deal with Roger.” Miami insisted, “You two should focus on Freddie.”

“Alright.” I agreed.

“Brian, Deaky!” A familiar voice called out. It was Bowie. What was he doing here? I frowned when I noticed the cast on his leg.

“Oh no!” John exclaimed. “What happened?” I asked.

“Elton dropped a piano on my foot. It’s a long story, but I’m fine.” He said dismissively, “They wheeled your friend Freddie down to the bed on the end a short while ago. He didn’t look too good.”

We still didn’t have specific details on what had happened to Freddie, but Bowie’s words were not reassuring to say the least. “We’re here to see him.” I said, “But we’ll be back. You deserve company as well.” “Yeah.” John said, “We’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.” “I have a broken leg.” Bowie chuckled, “Where could I possibly go?”

“I have a feeling we should fill him and Elton in on the whole soulless thing.” I said more to myself than to John. It was probably unwise to go against the advice of an immortal, but I figured that if we made our fellow rebels aware of the threat, we could somehow form a resistance and possibly fight back.

“As long as no one gets hurt.” John sighed, clearly not thinking about our other friends, “Freddie doesn’t deserve this, Brian. I feel so bad. How hurt do you think he is?” “We’ll find out.” I said, staring at the curtain with dread. ‘ _Please let him be okay.’_  I gave a silent prayer to anyone listening as Miami pulled the curtain aside, unveiling the patient in the bed. Freddie was lying there with a cat on his lap. He was staring up at the ceiling wearing a blank emotionlessly expression. Freddie was a lot of things, but expressionless was not one of them. It was off-putting to see the countenance of the usually overly animated singer devoid of any life. It made me want to murder Paul right then and there.

“Freddie,” Miami cleared his throat, “Deaky and Brian are here to see you.”

“So I see.” Freddie sighed, his voice soft and dragging as if speaking was causing him great pain.

“Oh, Freddie!” John wailed while I tried my best to keep a straight face. Seeing us cry would not do much to lift his spirits.

“I’m okay.” Freddie choked non convincingly, his eyes averting our concerned gazes, “I have Delilah here with me.” The cat mewed and lovingly nestled herself against Freddie’s chest. What happened next was truly heartbreaking. When Delilah’s paw rubbed against the side of Freddie’s stomach he recoiled, startling the cat and making her jump off the bed. “No!” Freddie cried, his voice cracking, “Delilah, please come back, love. It’s not your fault. I’m just sore there from…from…”

Fighting back my own tears, I picked up Delilah. Ignoring her hisses, I placed her back on Freddie’s lap, making sure that she avoided the sore spot this time. “Thank you.” Freddie sniffled, still not looking at me as if he were ashamed. It only seemed natural that Delilah was purring now when Freddie held her, but hissed when I tried to pick her up.

“I’m going to find Roger,” Miami announced, “but before I do, I have a little something for you, Freddie.” He held out the gift basket, but he didn’t react. When Freddie refused to accept, Miami just placed it down on the bed. “I’ll be back. Hopefully with Roger. You open it at your leisure.”

“I-I don’t…deserve—“

“—You take those goodies, Freddie!” We were all surprised by John’s sudden sharp tone, but I was glad he spoke up. “Deaky’s right.” I said, “You do deserve whatever’s in here, and don’t try to convince us otherwise.”

When Freddie didn’t respond, John and I both exchanged glances as we were unsure of what to do. Keeping the songbird happy was proving to be a much more difficult task than we had originally anticipated. I began to sift through the gift basket, purposefully exciting myself with each item as if I were entertaining a small child. “Freddie, look at this! It’s a bottle of Moet et Chandon. You love fancy wine, don’t you?” Freddie shrugged. “Maybe I’ll have some later.”

“Ooh! Caviar and cigarettes!” I tempted him again. Where the hell did Miami get all of this expensive and luxurious contraband? I didn’t question it. If it helped Freddie get out of his rut, I’d just accept whatever was in the basket. Unfortunately, it seemed like the treats weren’t working. “I really am not in the mood for any of this, Brian.” He said flatly.

This called for something more drastic. I took out the trusted Red Special. She wouldn’t let me down. However, I didn’t intend to be the only one playing. “Deaky, can you give me a beat? Something like the secret knock?”

He began a rhythm knocking on the bedpost and then clapping.  _*Knock, knock, clap! Knock, knock, clap…*_  It was simple but effective. “Perfect!” I exclaimed, “Oh Rog is going to love this one. He can do this great on drums.” Suddenly, I imagined an entire stadium full of people replicating the beat in unison with us. It would be loud and energized enough to thwart off any of the soulless trying to shut us down.

“It’s missing something.” Freddie said out of nowhere, “Deaky, darling, try stomping instead of knocking.” * _Stomp, stomp, clap! Stomp, stomp clap! Stomp, stomp, clap…*_ He was right, it did work better and would be more practical if there was nothing available to knock against.

“Keep it going.” I instructed. As John stomped and clapped, I came in with a guitar solo. It was partly improvised, but most of it I had been writing in my head for a while. Something about the combination of the guitar with the beat seemed powerfully special. John was grinning from ear to ear.

“Well, that was…something.” I laughed, too exhilarated to notice the shocks.

“That was something indeed.” John agreed.

“Something that needs lyrics.” Freddie stated.

“And a certain someone to sing those lyrics.” I proposed.

Within the blink of an eye, all the progress the song brought out in Freddie seemed to fly out the window. At the mention of singing, his lips trembled and his eyes traveled back up to the ceiling. “I’ll let you know when I feel ready to sing again.” he whispered.

“I think you’ll only feel ready when you do sing again.” John said gently, “It’ll make you feel better when you do. Why not give it a go?”

“It could be therapeutic. Remember what Miami said about finding positive outlets for negative energy? So sing something please.” I begged.

“Whenever I sing I feel like a champion,” Freddie sighed, “but I’m scared that might not be the case anymore.”

“Who says you’re not a champion?” I asked.

“This fucking marking!” He shrieked, unzipping the jumpsuit to reveal a deep cut in his side spelling out the words ‘ _Prenter’s Bitch_ ’. Once the initial shock had registered, I saw nothing but red. Paul deserved to rot in hell. “Oh God!” John shouted, bursting into tears alongside Freddie. I just shut my eyes, not wanting to see the reddened skin and message so crudely marked there. “Open your eyes, and look at it!” Freddie snapped, “I can’t bring myself to look at it, so you might as well. Paul wants the world to know that I belong to him.”

“You don’t.” I said, opening my eyes to take one more dreadful look, “Never say that, Freddie because you know it’s not true.” I zipped his jumpsuit back up so we didn’t have to face the horrendous sight anymore. Paul wouldn’t get away with branding Freddie like some sort of animal (and who in their right mind would even do something this cruel to an animal). It was sickening to think about. “We’re going to fight him, and we’re going to win because that’s what champions do. We’ll make Paul pay for what he did to you.”

“And we’ll keep on fighting till the end.” John declared, wiping his eyes, “Either we take him down and bring back freedom and happiness or we die trying.”

“I love you boys, and wherever the fuck Roger is, I love that idiot as well.” Freddie sniffled, “You are the champions.”

“ _We_  are the champions.” I corrected him, “And you even have the battle scar to prove that you’re a champion.”

“I didn’t exactly win this battle, so I wouldn’t call myself victorious.”

“But you didn’t lose the war. It’s not over, Freddie. We can still come out on top.” I insisted.

“Do you feel like singing now?” John asked softly.

“Maybe.” Freddie said, “I think I might write something.”

“Even better.” I told him, “Write something that will make you feel like a champion whenever you sing it.”

“I believe that’s a challenge I can live up to. How about I work on my champion song and you work on your stomp, stomp clap song?”

The lyrics were still a work in progress, but there was no way we’d ever resort to calling it something as ridiculous as the stomp, stomp clap song. Of course, we had finally talked some sense into Freddie, so I wasn’t going to tell him that his proposed title was almost as absurd as I’m in Love With my Car.

***

“It won’t work. It’s too repetitive.” I groaned, looking over what I had written down once more.

“I think it’s brilliant.” John argued, “We really need to let them know that we’ll be rocking them, so that’s why we’re repeating it so much.”

“Freddie, what do you think?” I realized that he had fallen awfully quiet again, and it worried me. He didn’t respond and was back to lying still with a blank teary stare. There were crumpled papers around him, so I assumed he had been working on that champion song.

“Give him time, Bri.” John said, “You don’t just recover from something like that. Believe me, overcoming trauma is not something you do overnight. Sometimes it’ll continue to haunt you even after you’ve gotten past it.”

Obviously, John was speaking from personal experience and that made his words even more painful to accept. I wasn’t sure what to say or if there was anything I could say to make any of this any better.

We looked up when the curtain was drawn. At first I thought it was going to be Roger, but once again I was let down when I wasn’t greeted by my best friend. Instead a stranger approached us. He was wearing a gray jumpsuit, so I knew he was a rebel like us, but other than that I had no reason to trust this man. “Oh I’m sorry.” He said, “I thought this was the spot. I must be mistaken.”

“What spot?” John asked as I blurted, “Who are you?”

“You can call me Cob. I’m a cobbler. I make shoes. Well I used to anyway. My business isn’t needed anymore now that the party creates the uniform boots in masses. That’s how I ended up here.”

“Wouldn’t you just be reassigned to a new job?” I asked skeptically.

“Oh. You misunderstand. I was caught trying to make nonuniform shoes as I used to.” Cob explained, “Sneakers, stilettos, sandals, you name it. I even made clogs if you can believe it. I don’t know why I would bother with that. Can you imagine someone wearing a pair of wooden clogs in this day and age?”

“God, I miss my clogs.” I sighed, nostalgically. Yes, I’m that weirdo who wears the clogs. I honestly don’t care what you think. I stand by it. All this sameness coming right down to our clothing was utterly asinine. All the shocks in the world wouldn’t change my mind on that element of the party. Our differences didn’t divide us. They enhanced us.

“Cob, darling, your shoes sound delightful.” Freddie was pulled out of his melancholic trance, “I hate these bloody boots more than you could possibly imagine.”

“Am I the only one in this band who doesn’t feel passionate about shoes?” John blurted.

“We take our shoes very seriously, Deaky.” Freddie said, “Don’t we, Brian?”

I grinned. He sounded like his old self again. Maybe I was wrong to be so weary of Cob. He was helping Freddie after all, and that was the goal.

“Well, I’m glad that I’m at least with two fellow shoe enthusiasts.” Cob said. He casually retrieved the blanket resting on the end of Freddie’s bed and used it to cloak the camera in the corner of the room. “Now we can  _really_ talk.”

“Don’t be too obvious about it.” I warned.

“He knows what he’s doing. He’s a fellow rebel.” John reasoned.

“You see a few of my friends and I cooked up a scheme to retrieve our stolen contraband.” Cob explained, “I have an entire trunk of shoes waiting for me. The only problem is I’m not sure where it’s hidden. My friends said they would be meeting me in the room where we’re storing everything, but clearly you’re not my friends, so this is not the spot.”

“We’re not your friends?” John pouted and I couldn’t help but laugh. Sometimes our little Deaky was just too cute to handle.

“I wouldn’t say that. You’re just not the friends I’m looking for per say.” Cob clarified and John perked up.

“Well, maybe we can help you find them.” Freddie decided, “It’ll be fun. Like a scavenger hunt. And in return, you’ll give us each a pair of shoes. I want new ballet slippers.”

“I’m not sure if I have a pair of ballet slippers, but I do have a pair of clogs for you, Brian.” He glanced down at my feet, “They should fit.”

Groaning in pain, Freddie attempted to get up. “Fuck! It’s not worth going through the pain if you’re not even certain that you have ballet slippers. I’m sorry, Cob. Have Brian go with you instead.”

“If he has a pair of slippers I’ll bring them back for you.” I offered. Although the likelihood of Cob having ballet slippers in Freddie’s size was slim. I was surprised he even had clogs that would fit me. It almost seemed too good to be true, but my skepticism had faded a while ago. At this point, I was too tempted by the shoes. Besides, Freddie would be satisfied if I returned with a pair for him. I tried to justify my decision in my mind, but still something seemed off about Cob. Was I just being paranoid? Miami turned out to be on our side, so worrying about him had been senseless. It would likely prove to be the same with Cob. Why not just go with the flow so to say? With that, my mind was made up. “Alright, Cob! Let’s go find those shoes.”

“I’ll stay here with you, Freddie.” John said.

“Fine, dear.” Freddie sighed, with a shortness, “I suppose I’ll keep writing this champion song while you chaperone me.” However, he didn’t reach for the paper and pen and instead just rested his eyes on the chipped black paint on his fingernails.

“The shoes will make you feel better.” I said, “I’m ready when you are, Cob.”

“Wonderful.” The cobbler proclaimed, “The shoes await!”

I followed him outside, waving to Bowie as we weaved in and out of the rows of beds. As we walked, I realized that this journey was somewhat aimless. Cob’s friends left no clues on where the shoes were located. How could I help when he probably had more information than me? Why was I blindly trailing him like this? Also, what kind of name is Cob? Yes, it could be a nickname for a cobbler, but it was a bit too obvious. Perhaps I was wrong to place my trust in him so quickly. Looking back now, it did seem foolish.

“As a rebel, I know how to recognize the blind spots in the cameras.” Cob whispered. He pointed upward revealing the positions of the cameras in relation to the secluded corner where we were standing. Yes, judging by the trajectory of the cameras, this would indeed be a blind spot. If anything were to happen, it wouldn’t be detected. Distracted by the cameras above my head, I failed to see Cob removing his shoe.

“What are you—“

Using the heavy boot as a weapon, he bludgeoned my head. The blow was sharp and enough to disorient me so I was unable to fight back when Cob hit me again. If I hadn’t been so caught off guard, I would have been able to defend myself better, but it was too little too late. I soon find myself on the floor, eyelids fluttering closed.

When I opened my eyes again, I was tied to a chair in a darkened room. Shit! I really should have followed my original instincts. Cob the cobbler! What was I thinking? Only a complete dolt would fall for that kind of ridiculous alias. My head was still throbbing from Cob’s attack, so it was difficult to think. All I knew was that I had to figure out where I was and how to get out. ‘ _Don’t panic! Don’t panic! Don’t panic!’_ I repeated the words, hoping they would help me maintain my usual calm demeanor.

A faint humming could be heard in the distance. I blinked, allowing my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Next to me were two empty chairs. Across the way there were more beds, but I was clearly in a different section of the infirmary. For one thing, the people in the bed were lying uncomfortably still almost as if they were dead. Their pale bodies resembled corpses. I attributed the droning hum to the buzz of the machinery that each body was attached to. I gulped coming to the realization that this was where the flash frozen were kept. The fact that I was here could only mean one thing…

Cob sauntered down the stairs and into the room, grinning deviously. His right boot left a trail of spotted blood behind him, but clearly he didn’t give a damn. Wiping my blood off of the bottom of his boot which had been used as a weapon was the least of his concerns right now. I struggled to break free from the restraints, but there was no point. I wasn’t strong enough. “What the hell do you want, Cob, if that’s even your real name. I bet you’re not even a cobbler.” I scoffed.

“Nope. I’m a proud party member, and I’m just fulfilling my duty to the prince so that I can feed.” Cob licked his lips as he spoke. The hungry look in his eyes was utterly terrifying.

“Back off!” Paul barked, emerging from the shadows like a vampire, “I told you to get him down here and let me do the rest. You may feast when I’m done with him, my child.” As if things couldn’t get any worse, the embodiment of all evil had to show up. I was more angry than afraid.

Frowning slightly, Paul eyed the two empty chairs beside me. He turned to Cob. “Where are your siblings? They were in charge of getting the other two here!” Cob just shrugged.

Other two? Roger and Deaky! It was obvious what Paul was doing. He was trying to dispose of Freddie’s support system so he was completely vulnerable. That bastard had it coming! I gave him a death glare when he shifted his attention onto me.

“I’m sorry Cob had to resort to such violent measures to get you here.” Paul’s tone was anything but regretful, “I feared you were too smart to fall for the temptation of accepting a pill or drug of some sort to knock you out. I honestly thought the clog idea wouldn’t work, but it appeared that I overestimated you.”

“You may think I’m the only smart one of the group, but Roger and John can surprise you. They won’t be as daft as me. You can’t lure them here. As for Freddie, we’re going to make you stay the hell away from him one way or another.” I threatened.

“How?”

Good question. I honestly had no idea how we were going to stop him, but I couldn’t let Freddie down. Paul took my silence as an answer. “That’s what I thought.”

He smirked. “Once you three are out of the picture, I’ll have full access to him, and there won’t be anything you can do about it because you’ll all be stuck here flash frozen.”

“And I’ll get to feast on your misery.” Cob added eagerly.

“You won’t get away with this!” I shouted.

As Paul leaned down to plug in a code in my bracelet, Cob stumbled backward clutching his heart. “Did you feel that, master?” he choked.

“Damn it!” Paul growled, “Soulmates are meeting and reuniting close by and it’s weakening you. It must be the work of that cheating soul reader who came to earth.”

Miami! I internally applauded the efforts of my immortal friend. Whatever he was doing was at least weakening Cob. Unfortunately, Paul showed no signs of vulnerability. “You know what. I’m going to leave you tied here.” he decided, “I think it would be more effective to flash freeze all three of you at once. So long as those other two are clinging to my sweet Persian, I can’t get what I need from him. If you’re all suspended at once, it’ll make him even more desperate and dependent on me.”

“You’re fucking sick!”

“Why thank you.” He replied, approaching one of the beds. With a loud rip, Paul split apart the bedsheet, retrieving a single cloth which he used to tie around my mouth creating a gag. “Can’t have anyone hear you screaming for help, now can we?” My retort came out muffled as I struggled again futilely.

“Have fun.” Paul laughed beckoning for Cob to follow him back upstairs.

Fuck! So much for not panicking. I had to get out of this mess and warn Roger and Deaky about Paul’s cronies coming after them. More importantly, I needed to be there with them to guard Freddie.

“Brian? Are you down here?” Miami was an angel! I tried to call out to him, but the stupid sheet around my mouth muffled me. “Mmmph! Mmmph!”

Thankfully, he heard my attempted hollers and sprinted in my direction, gasping when he saw me tied up and gagged. He cursed as he freed me from the restraints. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve gotten here sooner.”

“Paul’s going after Roger and Deaky. He wants the three of us to be flash frozen so we can’t be there to help Freddie.” I said in one breath, “Miami, we need to stop him!”

“I’ve warned the boys to be weary of strangers. They’ll be wise about it unlike you. What were you thinking chasing a crazed cobbler like that?”

“That’s the thing, I wasn’t thinking.” I concluded.

Miami opened his mouth as if to chastise me further, but before he could, his pupils flashed white. He blinked and they were back to normal. “I believe there’s someone here who would like to see you, Brian.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, glancing around at all the bedridden rebels reduced to nothing more than a comatose victims. If Paul hadn’t changed his, that would have been my fate. If we weren’t careful, Roger and John would join me in these beds. I shuddered.

“Come.” Miami guided down the rows of beds until we reached a very familiar face. My heart stopped dead in my chest as I stared down at the frozen man. I was simply shocked to the core of my bones. Just one sight, and I was reduced to tears. “D-Dad?” I could barely get out the word, it was stuck in my throat like a lump.

“He says you’ve grown.” Miami said, patting my shoulder.

“Shit!” I exhaled, realizing that Miami was translating his thoughts. Dad was still conscious, but was trapped in his own body. “H-How long…has he been like this?”

“About ten years, give or take.”

“No!” I cried, unable to wrap my head around this. I knew it was possible and had been anticipating this news since the day he was taken, but coming face to face this horrid reality was simply too much.

“He says don’t cry.” Miami interpreted.

“Easier said than done.” I sniffled, looking at Miami instead of my father in the bed. I couldn’t handle seeing him lifeless like this.

“He loves you. He wants you to know that.”

Never in my life did I ever experience something so very bitter sweet. I wasn’t sure what to make of Dad being reduced to this state but still having a way to communicate. One thing was certain. “Tell him I love him too.”

“He heard you. He can hear you. You just can’t hear him. That’s why I’m here.” Miami clarified.

“Right.” I muttered, trying to get a grip, “Um…” I had been envisioning this reunion for so long, but now that the moment was here, I had no clue what to say. “I saved the Red Special. We didn’t build it in vein, Dad. I still have it, and it works.” The words somehow spilled out naturally.

“He says he’s proud. He raised a strong boy. You need to keep fighting. Bring back the music.”

“I’ll never give up.” I vowed.

Miami laughed. “He’s surprised that you haven’t cut your hair since the last time he saw you.”

“Seriously?” I laughed, wiping the tears from my eyes.

“Oh wait. That was just a thought. It wasn’t supposed to be said out loud. I’m afraid that my telepathy is a bit rusty. It’s hard for me to differentiate his private thoughts from what he wants to tell you.” Miami shut his eyes tightly deep in concentration. “He’s trying to convey something to me…I see lots of numbers. An equation perhaps? Yes. Over the years, he’s been watching the others get flash frozen. A party member will put a code into their bracelets. There could be an algorithm to it. He’s been working through it in his head, trying to deduce out a code to reverse the paralysis. There may be a master code the party uses to gain access to every bracelet in Rhye. He thinks he can figure it out if he can work through it on paper instead of in his head.”

“Miami, write down every number!” I shouted, not hesitating to reach for this newfound glimmer of hope. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’m going to crack this code.”

“This is very complex.” Miami noted as he wrote down a daunting series of numbers and different equations.

“It’s just some math.” I reasoned, “How complicated can it be?” I rephrased my statement as I looked over the paper again. “Okay, it’s extremely advanced math, but it’s still math nonetheless.” I was definitely going to need some help if I wanted to work these numbers properly. It was very different from your average physics problem to say the least. John could probably help. From what I understood he was quite proficient at coding and programming and that was what this boiled down to.

“I’ll leave you here to figure this out because I haven’t a clue.” Miami sighed, “I need to make sure that Roger and John are still with Freddie. I told them to stay put, but after you were lured down here, I don’t know what to expect. I’ll be right upstairs if you need me.”

I was still deep in thought staring down at the paper as Miami left. It was only then that I realized I wouldn’t be able to communicate with Dad now that he was gone. There was so much more I wanted to say. “I swear I’m going to figure this out so that you can be back to normal and we’ll talk for real and have a legitimate reunion.” I declared. But I knew I couldn’t do it alone. The first step was to have John look it over. I’d enlist the help of Roger and Freddie too, but they probably wouldn’t be able to offer much in this department.

The sound of footsteps distracted me from my plans. At first I thought it was Miami, but when I heard a girl’s voice, I knew I was wrong. “Let me go!” She cried. Acting out of instinct, I hid behind one of the machines, peering out so I could see what was going on without getting caught. A guard was forcefully dragging a tearful girl downstairs. I internally scolded myself when my bracelet flashed blue. Yes, she was quite attractive, but that shouldn’t have been what caught my attention. She was in trouble, and I knew I had to help her somehow.

“You have been institutionalized for exactly one year, and you have failed to proven yourself rehabilitated in that time period. Therefore, by decree of the New Order, you are hereby subject flash freezing.”

“No!” I gasped, causing the guard look over in my direction.

I was still hidden behind the machinery. I could very easily stay here and avoid getting myself into trouble, but I was rebel at heart. Once again I was put in this bystander position. It had happened when the officers took Dad away, and again when John was caught playing bass in my rebel lounge. This time I wouldn’t sit back and let it happen before my eyes. I might be guilty of not thinking again, but I didn’t care. Logic and reason completely evaded me as I charged at the guard. Surprised by my sudden appearance, he attempted to dodge my attack, forgetting that he was halfway down the stairs. Tripping over his own two feet, he tumbled down the stairs before I could reach him. Unfortunately, he dragged the girl down with him. I wasn’t able to prevent the guard from falling, but I arrived at the bottom of the stairs just in time to catch the girl. The officer smacked his head against the bottom of the stairs. It looked like he was out cold on impact. I let out a sigh of relief. Well, that was easy. Chivalry was not dead!

I shifted uncomfortably as the girl clung to me. Both of our faces flushed when we realized I was cradling her bridal style. It was a very intimate position for two strangers even if both of our bracelets were flashing blue. “I’m going to put you down now.” I announced awkwardly, “Is that okay?” She nodded shakily, allowing me to release my grip. Once she was upright I kept my hands on her shoulders to ensure she remained steady.

“Um, thank you.” She said with a shy smile, “I’m Chrissie by the way.”

“Chrissie!” I exclaimed. Wow! I was not expecting to meet her in person, especially not like this. What a day! Now that we were face to face, I knew that there was something special. Could it be love? I wasn’t sure. Perhaps we were soulmates. Our bracelets could both be flashing pink right now and it may just be the interfering signal reverting it to blue. I’d never know the truth. Was this relationship worth pursuing? I had so much on my plate already especially now with the discovery of Dad and this code.

“Aren’t you going to introduce yourself?”

Right. I was stuck in my head. She probably thought I was crazy or something. I needed to speak. “We already know each other. I’m Brian. We’ve been writing to each other for the past year.”

“Brian!” Chrissie proclaimed, grinning widely, “Oh my goodness!”

“Well, it’s good to meet you formally.” I held out my hand for her to shake, but Chrissie just hugged me. However, when the embrace ended, she was no longer smiling. “I really thought we’d be pink.” She sighed.

“We could be. I’m on the watchlist, so my soulmate signal is blocked. We’ll never know.”

“I guess not.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t still be together.” I ventured. I was about to clarify that I meant romantically together, but Chrissie threw her arms around me once again. She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed me! I guess that settled things. I kissed her back, but didn’t let things get too intense just yet. After all, Dad was watching. Knowing that shifted my focus back to more important matters.

“Are you any good at math by any chance?”

“That has to be the worst pickup line I’ve ever heard.” She laughed, “What’s the punchline? We add up together.”

“No punchline. I’m asking. It’s kind of a long story, but I could use some help solving a code.”

It’s going to take explain everything to Chrissie, and of course you’re already well informed of Paul and all of this madness. Maybe you should go see how Freddie and the others are doing. Believe me you won’t be missing out on much down here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was longer than expected! It was a lot with Brian’s emotional reunion with his dad and then meeting Chrissie. But what about Anita? We know Roger met her and she’s upstairs with the boys. Hmm. I wonder how that will play out. We’ll have to wait and see. I’m not sure if the next chapter will be in Freddie or Deaky’s POV. I might split the chapter and have it written from both of their perspectives. Stay tuned!


	16. Somebody to Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John may have discovered Brian's real soulmate, but Brian is oblivious to it all. Freddie reunites with Jim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I can’t believe I’m over 1400 hits. I know I continue to thank everyone and it’s getting repetitive, but I’ll say it again. Thank you, thank you, thank you! You guys are absolutely wonderful! For those of you who don’t know I’ve started another story that has a very different style from Rebels of Rhye called In Only Seven Days. I’ll be updating both stories simultaneously, so don’t worry, Rebels of Rhye will continue. Anyway, this chapter is going to be unapologetically fluffy because I’m a sucker for this kind of sappy stuff. Consider this the calm before the storm, take that as you will.

_John’s POV_

After a few glasses of Moet et Chandon, Freddie had fallen asleep. I sat in a chair by his bedside with Veronica on my lap. Anita was in the chair next to us. Roger was sprawled on the edge of the bed cuddling with Dominique. I could tell it was difficult for him to keep his mouth shut, but we had to be quiet; Freddie needed his rest. We waited in a soothing silence for Miami to come back with Brian.

“You don’t think Brian’s in too much trouble, right?” Roger asked, mindful to keep his voice down, “What if that cobbler was a soulless?”

Could Cob be a soulless? He hardly seemed as cruel and heartless as Shane, but it all could have been a facade. What if Cob claimed Brian? Was I at fault? After all, I could’ve told him to stay here with me and Freddie instead of following Cob on a silly quest for shoes. Sensing my distress, Veronica kissed my cheek. “Shh. Deaks. It’ll be alright. I promise.” She was absolutely the best thing that had ever happened to me. I felt at ease and happy at home whenever I was with her. Now that we were together again, I could feel my anxiety slowly starting to melt away. Although not fading completely, it had dissipated into a bearable level that I could easily ignore.

“I’m bored.” Roger said, taking another cigarette from Freddie’s gift basket, “Do you think when Brian gets back we can play more Scrabble? I think I can beat him this time. Won’t that be something!”

“We’ve been playing Scrabble nonstop for the past three days and none of us have managed to beat him thus far.” I knew 72 hours straight of Scrabble was an exaggeration, but it did seem like we had been overplaying. Like Roger, I was tired of being defeated by Brian, but I wouldn’t admit that. Brian was my friend. If he won fairly, then he deserved the accolades.

“Well there’s nothing to do around here besides Scrabble. How else do you suggest we pass the time?” Roger grumbled.

I tensed when the curtain was drawn open. It could be Brian or Miami, but after our encounter with Cob we could never be too sure. My suspicion was worthy when yet another stranger entered the room. His hand was wrapped in a cast, so that explained what he was doing in the infirmary. Roger greeted the newcomer in the most friendly way imaginable. “Hello. We don’t trust people after I was almost poisoned by a nasty nurse, so kindly fuck off.”

“Don’t mind me.” The man said, “I was just looking for someone interested in some cheese on toast. He stared directly at me, and elaborated “You see my assigned shift was in the kitchen, and after burning my hand, hence the cast, I was—“

“—We know what you’re up to, and we’re not interested. Thank you very much.” I surprised myself with how bold I was being. However, it was quite obvious that this was a trap, so my harsh tone was justified. How could this stranger possibly know what my favorite snack was? It was just too coincidental.

“Leave before we make you.” Roger threatened.

“Prince Prenter won’t be too happy about this.” The man said under his breath as he left the room.

“How stupid do they think we are?” I cried.

“How could Brian fall for the clogs? I’m still getting over that.” Roger snickered.

Thankfully, the next visitor was someone we knew we could trust. It was Miami! I hoped he would be proud of us for warding off the temptation of cheese toast. Of course before I could get a word in Roger blurted, “Where’s Brian?”

“He’s coming.” Miami assured us, “He’ll be here soon. No harm done. Did anything happen while I was away?”

“A soulless tried to lure me with cheese toast, but I didn’t fall for it.” I announced with pride.

“Good.” Miami said his eyes on Freddie, “How’s our songbird doing?”

“He’s a sleepyhead.” I remarked, “But he’s coming along.”

“His song is bloody brilliant.” Roger exclaimed, “When he wakes up, Deaks and I are going to encourage him to sing it.”

“If he’s up to it.” I added, “But yes that would be good for him.”

“He  _needs_ to sing.” Miami agreed, “That is very important. I think we’ve been underestimating the power of his voice.”

“Do you think it’s powerful enough to stop Paul?” Roger wondered.

“It might be, but remember that the true goal is happiness and above all else love.”

I couldn’t help but smile as Veronica snuggled against me. As I watched Roger, plant small kisses all over Dominique’s face, I realized something that should have been obvious at first. How could I be so blind? “Miami, I think Jim Hutton has a paper cut and needs to be admitted to the infirmary.” Oh yes. That would be such a special surprise for Freddie. I could only imagine the look on his face if he woke up to see Jim by his side. We had our soulmates here, so it was only fair that Freddie was with his somebody to love. “I think you’re right, Deaky. I’ll see to it that Jim gets here right away.” Miami said with a wink.

“Good thinking, Deaks!” Roger applauded, “Freddie will be so happy to be reunited with Jim.”

“Anita,” Veronica addressed her friend, “what did you say happened to your soulmate?”

“Oh…I um, never met him actually.” She said, failing to hide the disappointment in her voice, “I ended up here before we could get assigned, but he’s out there somewhere.”

“You’ll find him one day.” I assured her.

“It’s not something I’m going to worry about.” She lowered her voice and whispered, “I think we should focus on our e-s-c-a-p-e. That’s more important.”

“Well, we still don’t have a clear plan in place yet.” Dominique pointed out.

Before we could begin plotting, I was distracted by the sound of boisterous laughter coming from outside. It was clearly that of a man and a woman, and whoever they were, they were having fun, which was unfortunately something foreign to the rebel camp. The others looked up at the sound, but something else caught my attention. Anita’s bracelet was suddenly flashing pink. She looked down and gasped. We shared a knowing smile until without warning, the color shifted to blue. Brian drew the curtain at last returning to us, but he wasn’t alone. He had his arm around a girl, still giggling matching the female voice from outside.

“Brian!” Roger exclaimed.

“Everyone. This is Chrissie.” He introduced his companion, “I don’t know for sure, but I’d say she’s the one.” Chrissie’s cheeks flushed with that introduction.

“Excuse me.” Anita said abruptly rising from her chair and leaving the room.

Brian and Chrissie’s bracelets were both flashing blue. If she was the one, wouldn’t they be pink? Wait, no they wouldn’t. Brian’s signal was blocked. He’d never know who his true soulmate was. Although that would explain why Anita’s bracelet had turned pink for a brief second. Brian was close by, but not close enough to block her signal.

“I’ll be right back.” I announced, gesturing for Veronica to get up off my lap. She obeyed, eyeing me curiously as I exited.

I found Anita alongside Bowie and a beautiful woman whom he introduced as his soulmate, Iman. It seemed like everybody had found somebody to love indeed. I joined them to offer Anita some comfort. Bowie was always very nice, but she was likely not in the mood to be a third wheel.

“So, you were pink and then you weren’t pink?” Iman asked, “Oh, Anita, I’m so sorry. That must’ve been heartbreaking.”

“It was just a mistake.” Anita sighed, “Besides, he seems really happy with Chrissie. They were laughing outside.”

“Yes. We could hear them.” Bowie remarked, “The entire infirmary could probably hear them. Oh! That’s probably not helping you much. I’m sorry.”

“But I don’t think it was a mistake.” I blurted.

“What are you talking about? Errors occur sometimes. They’re rare, but I’ve heard of it happening.” Anita said.

“Brian was put on a rebel watchlist and one of the consequences was losing out on his soulmate. The signal in his bracelet is blocked.” I explained, “You may very well be his soulmate, but if he gets too close, your signal will be blocked and revert the color from pink to blue.”

Anita gasped. “That does make sense. What can I do though? I mean he and Chrissie are clearly together now and—“ She trailed off when she saw her bracelet flashing pink again. It was only for a brief moment before it shifted back to blue. Mere seconds later, Brian showed up. There was no way that this could be a coincidence.

“Deaky, I need your help with something.” Brian said, his focus only on me before noticing the others in the room. “Bowie, did you find your soulmate?”

“I sure did. This is Iman, and I believe you may have met her friend Anita. Perhaps you two should talk.”

“That’s alright.” Anita stammered, “I was just leaving…again. Sorry. Bye. Um, nice meeting you, Brian.” She was already out of the room before Brian could even acknowledge her. I wasn’t sure what to do. How could I intervene? Should I even intervene? What if I was wrong and Brian was meant for Chrissie? I couldn’t sabotage their relationship.

Still oblivious to all of this, Brian handed me a piece of paper. “Deaky, do you think you can help me crack this code?” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “If we figure this out, we may be able to hack into every bracelet in Rhye.”

Suddenly, I forgot about the whole Chrissie Anita conundrum. Was it possible to hack the bracelets? That could give us so much power over the soulless. We’d be able to play music without getting shocked! Happiness could return to Rhye at long last. We’d be free. I stared down at the complicated series of numbers on the paper. It would take some time, but I’d be able to figure it out especially with Brian’s help. “Let’s get to work!”

We began to crunch the numbers, making slow but steady progress. Bowie and Iman wanted to help, but neither were too decent at math. Brian suggested we go back to Freddie’s room to see if he and Roger could help. Roger did have some knowledge in biology. Maybe that could be of use. However, what I really needed was a quieter place to work. I couldn’t focus with the others distracting me.

“I’m going to find an empty room. I think I can work better if I’m alone.” I told them.

“Alright.” Brian nodded, “Just be careful, Deaky.”

When I drew the curtain to leave, I spotted Miami out in the hallway alongside Jim and another man. Miami muttered something about the two of them having paper cuts just for the sake of appearances. “Elton!” Bowie recognized this stranger, and now I knew he was none other than Elton John.

“Bowie, I’m sorry about your foot.” He apologized, “Miami was able to save the piano if that makes you feel any better.”

“I was able to meet my soulmate, so everything worked out for the best.” Bowie said, putting his arm around Iman.

While the three chatted, Miami shifted his attention onto me and Brian. “Brian, John, I thought I told you to stay with Freddie.” He thankfully didn’t seem to upset that we had disobeyed him.

“Roger and the girls are taking good care of him.” Brian said, “We’re just trying to crack this code.”

“You can crack it from his room.” The immortal’s voice was more stern this time, “Come. Let’s go back to him. Elton, you should come too.”

“If you say so. See you later, Bowie. Pleasure to meet you, Iman.”

Brian and I exchanged confused looks when Miami knowingly stopped at a closed curtain that did not lead to Freddie’s bed. Obviously, Miami knew what he was doing, so we didn’t say anything. As Miami drew the curtain, I noticed Elton’s bracelet light up with an undeniable pink hue. On the other side of the curtain, there was a man in the bed, his bracelet shining with a matching pink.

“Elton John, meet David Furnish.” Miami announced with a wide knowing smile tugging at his lips, “I’m breaking so many rules by arranging this meeting, but the party never would have allowed this to happen. You both were set to be assigned to women for the purpose of reproduction. The women weren’t your real soulmates. You two never would have met if I didn’t orchestrate this stunt.” Elton and David stared at each other speechlessly. Love was definitely in the air, but I felt like an intruder watching them gaze into each other’s eyes without saying a word.

Brian cleared his throat. “We should go see Freddie now. He’ll be really excited to see you, Jim.”

“I’m excited to see him too.” Jim said eagerly.

“I feel like it’s Valentine’s Day or something.” I laughed.

“The day the soulless are defeated might as well be Valentine’s Day.” Miami replied.

Freddie was still fast asleep when we arrived. For someone with such a powerful voice and presence, he sure did seem innocent and vulnerable when he slept. Roger stepped in front of the bed protectively before realizing that he was surrounded by friends. “Sorry. I just don’t want anything else to happen to him. After the cobbler, and the cheese toast man, I’m really having trouble trusting people. We don’t know who’s working for Paul.”

“Who would’ve thought you’d be the sensible one and I’d be the one falling for stupid tricks.” Brian chuckled.

Not fully awake, Freddie made a sound and stirred in his sleep. I put a finger to my lips hoping my friends would get the message. Freddie deserved to get a decent rest. He was likely very sleep deprived considering how early Miami had woken him and Roger. Besides Freddie’s slumber was a great excuse to create a silent environment where I could truly devote myself to these numbers. One way or another Brian and I would crack this code and free Rhye! I was determined to make it happen.

“This is going to sound very hypocritical of me,” Miami whispered, “but I think everyone should leave—”

“—What?” Roger cried, and we all glared at him for making such a racket. Thankfully, Freddie only stirred slightly, but didn’t wake up.

“I don’t understand, Miami.” Roger continued at a lower volume, “All day you’ve been yapping at us to stay with Freddie, and now you want us to leave him.” Brian and I nodded in agreement. What he was saying was all true and justified.

“Everyone should leave except for Jim.” Miami stated calmly.

“Me?” Jim asked, “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Stay with him.” He insisted, “We’ll be back to check up on you later.”

With that, Miami drew the curtain and gestured for us to follow him out. Perhaps it was best that Freddie got some alone time with Jim. Everyone else was reuniting with or meeting their soulmates. I suddenly felt a pang of sorrow for Anita. It hurt more when I saw Brian hand in hand with Chrissie. What was I going to do?

“In the meantime, we can continue to working on the code.” Brian said, “And I think we’ll be able to make it quiet for you, Deaks. Even if we have to tape Roger’s mouth shut, we’ll do what we have to do to create a good working environment and figure this out.”

“Fuck you too, mate.” Roger scoffed.

I knew I had to put my full focus on the numbers, so I tried my best to suppress any concerns I had about Brian’s soulmate predicament (which he was still completely unaware of). Anyway, I’m sure you’d much rather read about Freddie and Jim’s reunion than me crunching numbers. I’ll let you know if and when I crack the code.

_Freddie’s POV_

_‘You can reduce me to tears_

_With a single sigh…’_

The off key voice, choked and cracked as if it were fighting back tears. My eyes were still shut as I drifted out of a deep sleep. I felt fingers brushing away the tears welled at the bottom of my closed lids. “Please don’t cry anymore.” I recognized the voice whispering in my ear, but I convinced myself that I was still sleeping because I feared that if I opened my eyes and returned to consciousness, he wouldn’t be there. This was a dream. I relished in the thought, a small smile creeping at my lips as I kept my eyes shut. I was still sleeping, and stuck in a perfect dream that would hopefully never end.

‘ _Every breath that you take_

_Any sound that you make_

_Is a whisper in my ear_

_I could give up all my life for just one kiss_

_I would surely die_

_If you dismiss me from your love_

_You take my breath away’_

Good God! Jim couldn’t hold a tune if his life depended on it, but to me it all sounded magical. How could anything coming out of my lover’s lips not send a feeling of deep euphoria all around me? His song choice was fitting as well considering that I had used it to serenade him. My mind traveled back to that blissful night we had spent together before I was sent to the rebel camp. One day I’d see Jim again, and it wouldn’t be a dream. For now, it was time to return to reality. I cherished the feeling of his hand caressing my cheek one last time before I opened my eyes. I blinked and rubbed them several times, waiting for this apparition of Jim to disappear.

“Freddie?”

It was him! Here, in the flesh, Jim Hutton was laying in the bed with me. I no longer questioned the realness of it all. I threw my arms around him and clung to him refusing to let go. Only when I met his chocolate brown eyes that I loved so much, they were stricken with pure panic. “Oh God, Freddie! Please say something.”

“Shh.” I hushed putting a finger to his soft lips, “Darling, it’s okay. We’re together again.”

I felt his entire body relax and melt into my embrace as he let out a sigh of relief. I removed my finger from his lips and replaced it with my mouth. I really would give up my life for just one kiss, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

“When you didn’t say anything…I thought that they had…” Jim touched his throat, and I understood what the gesture implied. I shook my head, immediately dismissing the horrid notion. “Didn’t I promise you that I wouldn’t let them silence me?” I said firmly, “That’s one promise I intend on keeping no matter what.”

“I know, Freddie. I was just scared.”

I noticed the dark bruise around one of Jim’s eyes, and couldn’t help but feel protective. No one should ever hurt such a sweet man. “Who did that to you?”

“No one. It doesn’t matter.” Jim downplayed.

I could think of no one else evil enough to inflict pain on my love, and he certainly had the motive to do it. “Was it Paul?” My voice came out as a venomously growl.

“Freddie, I’m alright. Like you said, we’re together again. Let’s focus on that. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that day we met and I fell so hard for you.” Jim gave me another kiss, and the discussion about Paul ended there. In fact, all discussions seemed to end there. Neither of us said anything coherent for the next hour. Our bodies did all the speaking. Oh, darlings, I know what you’re thinking, and please, you know me better than that! If we had sex I would’ve told you. I’d shout it from the rooftops, relaying each and every intimate detail. So, yes, we remained abstinent, but we shared an intimacy different from sex—a simple exploration of our bodies with our clothes still on. Somehow, just passionate kissing and cuddling was so much more fulfilling than I could ever imagine. It reminded me of our last few hours together when I had sung him to sleep on the couch. I was convinced that now that we were reunited, nothing would ever split us apart. Then Delilah, crawled from the foot of the bed and nuzzled her way in between us, quite literally splitting us apart.

“Delilah!” I scolded, “You know I love you very much, but I also love Jim, so let me be with him now and then we can cuddle later.”

“So you finally found yourself a cat, huh?” Jim laughed.

“She found me.” I clarified, “Just like you found me.” I swat at his nose playfully, “Oh darling, it’s so good to see you again. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you. How did you manage to get here anyway?”

“Paper cut.” Jim replied, “It was Miami’s idea.”

“Remind me to thank that dear immortal friend of ours.” I said, unable to contain my smile. Miami knew that this was exactly what I needed. Of course, I loved my bandmates and they were a tremendous help, but what I had with Jim was another special kind of magic that was hopefully powerful and positive enough to stop Paul.

“What’s this?” Jim asked, picking up the piece of paper that had somehow fallen to the floor. Perhaps in our impassioned snuggling, one of us had knocked it off the bed. “That is a song I’ve been working on to help me get my confidence back, but I don’t need it anymore. Now that I’m with you again, I feel like a champion once more.”

“Sing it for me.” Jim prompted, but before I could open my mouth, his lips cascaded with mine again.

“Darling,” I sighed in between sweet kisses, “I can’t sing with our lips intertwined like this, now can I?” I predicated what Jim was going to say next, but I stopped him. “Don’t you dare apologize.”

“Sorry.” Jim said anyway making me laugh, “I’ll try to restrain myself. I want to hear you sing again.”

I still hadn’t sang a word since Paul knifed me, but it was time to put his abuse behind me. The branding on my skin was meaningless. I was my own person, and I damn well did whatever I pleased. I cleared my throat, realizing that I was parched. This simply wouldn’t do. I poured myself another glass of Moet et Chandon letting the wine rest on my tongue before swallowing. “Now you’ll have to forgive me, darling. I haven’t really warmed up my voice yet so it may sound a bit raw.” Jim rolled his eyes. “Freddie, it’s you. Anything you sing will sound divine.” “Very well.” I said, and delved straight into the song without anymore hesitation.

_“I've paid my dues_

_Time after time_

_I've done my sentence_

_But committed no crime_

_And bad mistakes_

_I've made a few_

_I've had my share of sand kicked in my face_

_But…’_

I looked down at what I had written on the page. ‘ _ ~~But I deserve it all.~~ __But I will come through.’_  Jim gestured for me to continue, and I knew what I had to do. I crossed out the line again, penciling in a new one.  _“But I’ve come through!”_  I crooned. I continued even though nothing else was written. I felt the song ripping from my chest with the force of a thousand lions as I belted the words. No amount of shocks could contain my unbridled spirit and love of music.

“ _We are the champions, my friends_

_And we'll keep on fighting 'til the end_

_We are the champions_

_We are the champions_

_No time for losers_

_'Cause we are the champions of the world…”_

Jim was left dumbfounded, somewhat teary but applauding boisterously. “What do you think, darling?” I asked with a smug smirk, “Does it have potential?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy-Ohh! Our Freddie is back! I hope you enjoyed reading this because I had a lot of fun writing it. I had Freddie and Jim’s reunion planned for a while and wanted to make it heartfelt and perfect. I think ending on such a high note (literally) was the best way to deliver! Stay tuned for more…


	17. Mama, Just Killed a Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger and Freddie annoy Brian and John while they try to crack the code.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fact that you guys are still reading this amazes me! I love hearing all of your comments, so please keep it up! <3

_Roger’s POV_

Eventually Miami had us “discharged” from the infirmary. Apparently our paper cuts were healed. In other words, it would be too suspicious if we stayed any longer. Plus if we were sent back to our cell, Miami could ensure that none of us were lured away by another soulless. You can thank Brian for that concern. I considered posing as Taylor Swift again so I could stay in the infirmary with the girls (lucky bitches got to stay with Bowie and Elton), but Miami would probably catch on. Meanwhile, Freddie returned with us, but was deemed in a condition too weak to work or do anything outside of the cell, including meetings with his party supervisor. It was a temporary relief to keep him away from Prenter, so we deemed it as a short term victory. Thankfully, Freddie had started acting more like himself after spending time with Jim, and he was in high spirits when Miami let us keep Delilah in the cell with us. For now it looked like we were back to square one: The four of us locked in a cramped room for hours and hours on end with nothing but a couple of notebooks and writing utensils to keep us occupied. Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t imagine being trapped with anyone other than my three bandmates/brothers, but the situation was a recipe for disaster. It was a miracle we didn’t kill each other!

Brian and Deaky busied themselves with cracking the code. I tried to help; I really did, but the numbers made my head spin. Soon Freddie and I realized that by assisting we were wasting time by having one of the guitarists attempt explain the math to us. Unable to help, we had no choice but to be quiet so they could focus. I’m willing to bet you can see what the problem is.

“No way! Say what you will, but there is no fucking way you can sing higher than me.” I challenged. I wasn’t even sure how this most recent fight began, but Freddie and I somehow found each other in a screaming match debating over our vocal ranges. “You really want to wager on my voice? Oh, you foolish darling. It’s on!”

“Oh please don’t tell me where I think this is going.” Brian groaned.

“ _Aaaaaaaah!”_ Freddie crooned an impressively high note, but I wasn’t deterred. “ _Aaaaaah!”_ I took it up about an octave. This was child’s play for me. “ _Aaaaaah!”_ Freddie had to go into his falsetto to reach the next note. I knew I had him beat. “ _Aa_ —“

“—I swear to God if you two don’t shut up now I’m going to lose it!” John shouted.

We knew it was time to stop when Deaky got upset. His nasty looks were one thing, but when he was vocal about his annoyance, it meant we took it a step too far.

“Fine, we’ll end it, darlings, but only if you can settle this for us. Who can hit the higher note?”

“Roger.” Brian and Deaky said unison which surprised me. They usually took Freddie’s side. This did wonders for my ego.

“Yes!” I exclaimed.

“Fuck you all.” Freddie cried, “Why don’t you just make Roger your new frontman, and I’ll have a solo career?”

“That would be awesome!” I proclaimed, “But I can’t be a frontman. Who would play the drums?”

“Probably Deaky.” Freddie reasoned.

“No way! Deaky can’t play the drums. We’d make Brian do it.”

“You really think Brian would make a good drummer? I think he’d be horrible at it.”

“Well Deaky would be horrible as well.”

“Hey! We’re right here!” Brian hollered.

“And we want you to be quiet already!” John pleaded, “No more of this.”

“Fine, we’ll end it, darlings, but only if you can settle this for us. Who would make the better drummer?”

“This has been going on for hours! We’re not settling anymore bloody arguments.” Brian exclaimed, “Just let us work in peace.”

“I forfeit. Neither of them would make good drummers.” I decided, “You guys would be totally lost without me.”

“Well, it looks like I’m your frontman again.” Freddie announced.

“Don’t you get it.” Brian sighed, “There can be no frontmen nor drummers until we bring music back to Rhye, and we can’t do that unless we can focus on this code. That means you two need to stop being so loud. We can’t work very well when all we hear is—“

“—Radio gaga!” They all looked at me like I was mad, and without any context the outburst would seem a bit crazy. “Bri, that’s brilliant! I’ve been trying to come up with a segue into the chorus of my new song, and ‘All we hear’ will work great!”

“All we hear is radio gaga?” Freddie asked skeptically.

_“You had your time, you had the power_

_You've yet to have your finest hour_

_Radio (radio)_

_All we hear is radio ga ga_

_Radio goo goo_

_Radio ga ga_

_All we hear is radio ga ga_

_Radio blah blah_

_Radio, what's new?_

_Radio, someone still loves you”_ I sang.

“That’s actually really good.” John nodded with a smile.

“I could see us using it to interact with the audience the same we want to with We Will Rock You.” Brian said, “I’m surprised, Rog. I didn’t know you could top I’m in Love with My Car.”

“I didn’t either,” I said, not recognizing the sarcasm in his voice, “but here we are! Fred, what do you think.”

“Yes, dear. I think it has some potential. I like Brian’s idea. Perhaps we can stop and clap in between each goo goo and ga ga? My goodness, I feel like an infant when I say those words, but somehow it works in the song.”

“It’ll work because we’ll be singing it, not saying it.” I explained.

“And anything I sing turns to gold!” Freddie was conceited, but in this case he had the right to be. Sure I could hit the higher notes, but his voice had so much more depth and beauty than mine. There was something magical about Freddie’s voice that just couldn’t be matched. Miami was right, it was a powerful force to be reckoned with.

I couldn’t help but smile as I watched Freddie dance around the room with Delilah chasing his feet. It was only a couple days ago when his confidence was shaken and he was at an all time low. I’d much rather see Freddie like this than in a state of depression. Sadness was not befitting of him.

I decided that the song could still use some more work. Tweaking it would keep me distracted enough to stop pestering Brian and John. It was a real shame that we didn’t have any instruments besides the Red Special. Hearing how the song would sound instrumentally as I wrote it would be a real help. Reluctantly, I sneaked a glance at Brian. He was focused on the equations on the paper. Surely, he wouldn’t notice if I took a step closer to his guitar and—

“Rog, if you touch the Red Special I will murder you.” Brian sounded dead serious despite not looking up from his work.

Shit! I could think of nothing else than to retort with a witty comeback. “I really don’t think you have it in you to kill me, Brian. You’re a vegetarian.”

“Exactly. I don’t kill animals. Now, people on the other hand, that’s a different story.” Of course Brian meant it as a joke, but I wouldn’t put it past him.

“Okay, darlings, let’s not resort to killing each other.” Freddie intervened before things could escalate any further. “Roger, stay away from the Red Special. Brian, apologize to Roger for threatening to murder him.”

As Brian rolled his eyes, John made a whimpering noise. “Guys!” He squeaked.

“Not now, Deaky.” I dismissed, “Brian owes me an apology.”

“I owe you no such thing. You just cannot take a joke.” Brian countered.

“Get along!” Freddie shouted.

“Stay out of this, Fred!” Brian and I said in unison.

“Um.” John attempted to speak again, but he was looking up at us as if he needed permission. This time I decided to give him some attention because he deserved to be heard. “What’s going on, Deaks?”

“I-I hacked it.” He stammered.

“You did it?” Brian gasped in disbelief, “Oh, Deaky! Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I—“

“—We are so proud of you, darling!” Freddie proclaimed, “In generations from now you’ll be remembered as the hacker who saved Rhye.”

“But I—“

“—So, how’d you do it?” Brian pressed, “Which equation was the right one?”

“Guys stop! You’re overwhelming him!” I scolded. I put an arm around John consolingly. “It’s okay, Deaky, you can tell us whenever you’re ready.”

John took a deep breath. “I think I can hack into the soulless’ bracelets.” He explained, pulling up a holographic image from his bracelet, “T-This is what Shane is seeing right now.” We were watching a video through the eyes of someone standing over the toilet vomiting up blood.

“Miami said he was dying.” Brian recalled.

“Serves that son of a bitch right!” I said, tightening my grip around John protectively, “Soon he’ll be gone and he’ll never hurt you or anyone else ever again.”

“I can initiate the shocks.” John whispered, plugging in a code on his bracelet. In the holographic video, we witnessed Shane going through a spasm, screaming in pain as John continued to punch in the numbers.

“That’s what he deserves for causing you so much pain!” Freddie laughed.

The idea of Shane violating a poor trembling Deaky only made this more satisfying to watch. “Shock him harder!” I shouted.

“I think that’s enough.” Brian said.

“He needs to suffer like I did.” John said darkly as he increased the volts. “Alright, Deaky!” I applauded, “Keep shocking him.”

John hesitated, shaking slightly as he watched Shane twitching on the floor in clear agony. “Bri’s right.” He trembled, “That’s enough.” Only before John could end the shocks, Shane stopped moving. Oh shit! The words ‘Citizen is deceased’ flashed across the hologram. John’s breaths came out in rapid heaves. He was hyperventilating.

“I-I killed him.” John sobbed, rocking back and forth in my arms, “Oh God!”

“Brian, do something! He’s about to have a sheet heart attack.” I cried.

“Deaky, it’s okay.” Brian attempted to shush him. Gently, Freddie and Brian joined me, enclosing John in the limbs of his loving friends. “It’s going to be alright, darling.” Freddie whispered, kissing the top of John’s head.

“The bastard deserved it.” I added, but Brian’s glare made me realize that my comment did not help.

Freddie ran soothing circles down the weeping guitarist’s back softly humming a familiar tune. It did wonders to get John to stop trembling. He was no longer shaking like a leaf until Freddie started to sing. “ _Mama, just killed a man…”_  One verse in and John was ugly bawling again.

“Of all the songs to sing, you had to go with that one?” I shouted.

“In my defense, I was only trying to lighten the mood.”

“I-I’m going to hell.” John wailed. His breathy sobs were heart wrenching and before I knew it, I was starting to tear up as well. After all, I was the one who told John to keep initiating the shocks.

“Freddie, sing something else, please!” Brian begged.

“ _She keeps her Moet et Chandon_

_In her pretty cabinet_

_"Let them eat cake", she says_

_Just like Marie Antoinette_

_A built-in remedy_

_For Kruschev and Kennedy_

_At anytime an invitation_

_You can't decline_

_Caviar and cigarettes_

_Well versed in etiquette_

_Extraordinarily nice_

_She's a Killer…”_

“I’m a k-killer.” John wheezed.

“Fuck!” Freddie shouted, “Um, how about this song?”

_“I have sinned dear father father I have sinned_

_try and help me father_

_won't you let me in?”_

“That is worse than Mama just killed a man!” I cried, “God, Freddie, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’m only trying to help! I think this one will work for sure.” Freddie gave it another shot with one last song, and it seemed to do the trick.

‘ _I am forever searching high and low_

_But why does everyone tell me 'no'?_

_Neptune of the seas, an answer for me please_

_The lily of the valley doesn't know_

_I lie in wait with open eyes_

_I carry on through stormy skies_

_I follow every course; my kingdom for a horse_

_But each time I grow old_

_Serpent of the Nile, relieve me for a while_

_And cast me from your spell, and let me go_

_Messenger from seven seas has flown_

_To tell the king of Rhye he's lost his throne_

_Wars will never cease_

_Is there time enough for peace?_

_The lily of the valley doesn't know’_

Sure enough, John calmed enough to stop shaking and slowly began to dry his tears. “Can you give us a smile, Deaky, darling?” Freddie asked softly. John choked back more dry tears. He shook his head. “That’s alright. You smile when you’re ready.” Freddie said.

“Everything is going to be okay.” Brian said, “We’re here for you.”

“And we love you.” I insisted.

“Friends forever.” John whispered with a sniffle.

“Friends forever!” We repeated.

Freddie and I continued to comfort Deaky as Brian looked over his notes trying to figure out the hack for himself. “John, you’re brilliant! I can’t believe I didn’t see this pattern.”

“Wait, so does this mean we can essentially hack into every bracelet in Rhye?” I inquired.

Brian used his bracelet to pull up another holographic video. It displayed an image of Brian standing over Freddie who was crouched on the floor embracing Deaky. Whoever’s perspective the video was from was currently alongside Freddie also hugging Deaky. Wait a minute. “Bri, did you just hack my bracelet?” ‘ _Bri, did you just hack my bracelet?’_  The video mimicked. I cringed at how girly my voice sounded in playback.

“I had to test it somehow.” ‘ _I had to test it somehow.’_  Brian turned off the video to get rid of the echo. “It looks like we can hack into just about anyone’s bracelet.”

“So what can this do for us? I mean aside from shocking the shit out of the soulless, how can we use this to our advantage?” I wondered.

“Shane was already weakened.” Freddie pointed out, “I have a feeling Paul won’t be taken down with shocks. He’s too powerful for that.”

“You hear that, Deaks, Shane would’ve died anyway. You’re totally not to blame.” I said. John muffled something inaudible in response as Freddie and Brian both gave me the “shut your dumb mouth” look I was all too familiar with.

The clack of the door opening startled us all, but John was the one to jump in the air. Normally, I would’ve laughed at his reaction, but this time I held myself back. “Oh good! We could use Miami’s advice.” Freddie celebrated prematurely as it wasn’t Miami who entered the room. I groaned as Ray fucking Foster sauntered toward us. Didn’t Miami promise us we didn’t have to deal with this miserable piece of shit anymore?

“Don’t bother trying to shock me.” Ray told Brian, “It won’t work.”

“No.” John choked, “No more shocks.”

“Deacon gets it.” Ray complimented, “You simply cannot win. Sure, you can kill some of my weakened brothers and sisters, but where will that get you? Prince Prenter is still in charge and he shall remain in charge.”

“Why are you here then?” Freddie challenged, “Go tell your cowardly boss to get his ass over here and face me himself like a man.”

“Have him face all of us!” I chimed in, “Together we can show him who’s  _really_ in charge! Isn’t that right, boys?”

“That’s right.” Brian agreed. “We’ll kick his ass!” Freddie exclaimed. Even Deaky nodded in support.

“Ah, that’s cute.” Ray teased, “Who do you think you are, the Powerpuff Girls?”

“No, darling, we’re Queen, and nobody fucks with us.” Freddie declared getting up in the soulless’s face with a ferocious intensity.

“If they fuck with us, we’ll kill them.” I said trying to sound super badass, “Just ask Deaky!”

“Goddamn it, Roger!” Brian said under his breath.

“Say what you please, but you’re coming with me, Mercury.” Ray threatened, “You have a visitor who wants to see you.”

“I’m not allowed to leave.” Freddie replied smoothly, “I’m still recovering from an injury.”

“You seem fine to me. Let’s go!” In one swift motion, Ray grabbed Freddie by the wrist and flung him out the door, slamming it shut behind them before any of us could react.

“Fuck!” I shouted, “We really have to be the world’s worst protectors.”

“I’ll signal Miami.” Brian said, “And in the meantime, we can keep track of Freddie through his bracelet.” He punched digits into his bracelets only to have a black screen appear as the video projection. The words  _“Signal blocked courtesy of Prince Prenter of Rhye.”_ flashed across the hologram.

“That bastard.” I growled.

“I at least signaled Miami.” Brian sighed, “That’s something, right?”

Sensing Freddie’s absence, Delilah crawled over toward the door and whimpered. Her tortured mewls were heartbreaking. Brian pet the cat, and she surprisingly didn’t hiss or claw at him as she did with anyone who wasn’t Freddie. “Shh. Delilah, it’s okay. Freddie will be back. He’d never abandon you, love.”

I noticed John was quietly staring down at his own bracelet, plugging in more numbers. We really needed to let Deaky know how valued he was. His contributions to the band and our friendship were often overlooked. “What are you doing there, Deaks?” I asked.

“I found a list of all the people currently flash frozen. Can you believe this?” He projected the list for us to see and began to scroll through it. I thought I was about to faint when I saw some of the famous names displayed. All four of the Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Iggy Pop, Mick Ronson, Eric Clapton, Jimmy Page, Robert Plant… “Holy shit!” Was all I managed to say in my starstruck state.

“And if we stay here for the rest of the year, we’ll be next.” John muttered.

“Hang on. Why does it say Queen of Rhye?” Brian spotted, “There must be a mistake. Why would the Queen be flash frozen?”

A realization hit me like a speeding Ferrari. The Queen hadn’t been seen in public in years. Prince Prenter was the party’s official spokesperson. He was the one who enforced the New Order. In fact, apart from the Queen’s signature on the decree legitimizing the law, she had seemingly disappeared from the face off the earth “Paul.” I snarled, “He had her flash frozen so she couldn’t call the shots anymore. All he needed was her signature and then he disposed of her.”

Brian took a deep breath. “If the math is correct, which I know it is, then if we input this code, it’ll revive everyone on this list including the Queen. She’ll be able to reveal the truth about what Prenter did to her.”

“E-everyone?” I gasped, trying to wrap my head around the idea of being the savior to these incredibly talented superstars.

“Everyone.” Brian confirmed, “From John Lennon to Harold May.”

“Your dad’s on the list?” It took my eyes a few minutes to rest on the name, “Oh, Bri! I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Rog. We’re ending this and we’re ending it now. Are you ready, Deaky?”

“Of course I’m ready for this. I’m hanging on the edge of my seat.” John said.

“Do it!” I urged.

Brian plugged the numbers into John’s bracelet, and we waited in anticipation knowing that from this moment forward, nothing would ever be the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They did it! You can count on Brian and Deaky to crack any code! But what’s going to happen to Freddie? Who’s his mysterious visitor? Find out in the next chapter!


	18. Love of My Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie reunites with Mary and battles the soulless with an army of the very best classic rock has to offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to take a moment to appreciate everyone who's taken time out of their day to read my writing. I have been super stressed lately (and I have anxiety in general) and writing really helps me emotionally. The fact that my writing makes you guys happy as well is crazy and I can't express how good it feels to receive such positive feedback. This fandom is just so wonderful and I'm so grateful that we all get to connect through our love of music and talented writing skills! Ok I'll stop now. Sorry. Let's get to what you really came here for. Prepare yourself for a crossover of your favorite classic rockstars in an epic battle akin to the Avengers (ok I'm over hyping it, but whatever it was still super fun to write!). Here's the next chapter!

_Freddie's POV_

Ray locked me in a more traditional jail cell, akin to the one I had woken up in when I had first arrived at the rebel camp. This time there was no sign of Paul, so I let out a sigh of relief. I knew I had to face him again eventually. I was prepared this time, but that didn't mean I wasn't terrified. Last time I was alone with Paul he nearly killed me by flash freezing me and then he carved me like a carcass. At least now I had a plan in store on how to fight back if he dared to fuck with me again. Regardless, even champions get afraid before going into battle sometimes. However, what set me apart from most warriors was that I had a secret weapon to assuage my fears. My weapon was nothing physical like some sort of sword or shield, but let me tell you it was just as powerful! Boldly eyeing the camera overlooking the cell, I embraced my rebellious spirit. I did what I was born to do: I sang.

_"So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye_

_So you think you can love me and leave me to die_

_Oh baby can't do this to me baby_

_Just gotta get out just gotta get right outta here"_

My bracelet was dangerously flashing red and giving off a wave of shocks that were far more than just uncomfortable, but that didn't stop me. I was done putting up with this oppressive bullshit. If I wanted to sing, I'd fucking sing. According to Miami, positive energy weakened Paul. So I figured that I'd channel all of my love and might into my voice, and it would fill my soul with all the happiness and the strength needed to defeat Paul. That would be enough to put an end to the soulless' reign. It  _had_ to be enough! There was nothing else I could do.

The red hue on my bracelet suddenly lightened to a shade of a pink even though the shocks persisted until l stopped singing. The light remained pink, and I was left wondering why. Clearly, I was alone in here. I didn't want to believe that Jim was being detained in a cell nearby, but what else could the pink be indicating?

"Mercury!" A guard called, "You've got yourself a visitor."

He approached the cell, but I wasn't focused on him. Instead I was plagued with tunnel vision and could see nothing else but the sweet girl timidly following the guard. I couldn't believe it! I thought for sure I would never see her again! Her bright blue eyes were no longer fearful when she saw me. "Freddie!"

"Mary!" I eagerly ran up to the bars and attempted to reach out to her. I missed her so much and wanted nothing more than to envelope her in my arms.

"Back up!" The guard ordered before he unlocked the cell door and allowed Mary to enter. She was hesitant, but eventually joined me, cringing when the guard locked the door behind us. I was able to give her the proper hug that was suiting of our reunion. It was warm, tight and loving.

"You've got until the end of the hour to have him convinced so be efficient." The guard said ominously before leaving us alone. Convinced? Oh it doesn't matter. My Mary was back and we could have some much needed time together to catch up. Of course, with the camera looming over us we weren't truly alone, but I'd be satisfied with this amount of privacy for now.

Mary was still wearing her tan jumpsuit, so I knew she hadn't been admitted as a rebel otherwise she'd be in a grey jumpsuit like mine. She looked beautiful as ever despite not wearing any makeup. Her blonde hair was slicked back into a long braid. She usually wore her hair down so it beautifully cascaded down her back, but this style suited her as well.

"Mary, my love, I can't believe you're really here." I proclaimed.

She smiled that pretty smile of hers with perfect teeth that made me envious. "Yes, Freddie, don't worry. I've got it all sorted out. This nightmare is finally over. You can be out of here as early as this afternoon. Oh, I've missed you so much!"

"I've missed y—Wait! What do you mean I'm getting out? I don't understand. I have a year until I'm eligible for parole." Not wanting to worry her, I conveniently omitted the part where I would still refuse to sign my contract and be flash frozen as consequence.

"Prince Prenter explained everything to me." Those were the only words I needed to hear to know that my love had been tainted. Mary frowned when I abruptly released her from my embrace in disgust as if she had somehow morphed into a snake.

"Darling, you can't believe a word that comes out of his mouth! He's the one behind this miserable New Order, and his one goal in life is to feed off my misery by torturing me until I die." I shouted.

"He said you'd been brainwashed by the other rebels and that's why he sent me here to convince you to sign your contract so you'd be free."

Oh God! I could see where this was going. Paul had threatened to hypnotize my loved ones, but I doubted that even he could sink this low. Mary was innocent, and I had aimed to keep her in the dark about my singing so she wouldn't get hurt.

"You need to trust the prince, Freddie. He's offering you a new contract, a better one. We can still be together. We'll be best friends, just like you wanted. We'll have  _almost_ everything. Prince Prenter can offer you those things that I can't. Plus you'll get to live in the palace with him. You'll be treated like royalty, Freddie. Please, you need ignore whatever it is that those three loons told you. Listen to me. I love you. I know what's best for you." Mary didn't sound like herself. The words were trailing from her lips robotically as if they were scripted.

"No, you listen to me, darling." I said sternly, "Those three loons happen to be my three closest mates. Paul is the one brainwashing you. I know you do love me, and if there's any part of you still in there, you'd know that this isn't what's best for me. Paul is going to make me his sex slave. It won't be a life. It'll be hell. Please, Mary, you must understand."

"I don't understand, Freddie. I thought you wanted me in your life. If you stay here with these loathsome rebels, you'll never see me again. Prince Prenter promises that if you sign the contract, we'll be able to see each other every day. I know we won't be lovers anymore, but that's alright."

"He's lying." I hissed, "I'll never see you or any of my loved ones ever again. It'll just be me and him in his sex dungeon. And the worst part is that I won't even have a fucking voice!"

Why was I even making this argument? The real Mary would have realized how miserable I was by now. She'd never force me into this horrendous bargain knowing how much pain it would cause me.

"Oh right. You'll be mute." Mary giggled, "That's just a small sacrifice to make, right? Won't it be worth it to get everything you ever wanted and more?"

"He's gotten to you. You're really gone, aren't you, my love?" I was on the verge of tears. "How dare you fucking laugh at the thought of me losing my voice forever!"

"You don't really need it, Freddie. It just gets in the way of you and your happiness."

"You're really not making any sense, darling." And ironically I found myself laughing now. However, it was dry bitter laugh out of pure frustration. Was this how Brian and Roger felt whenever they looked at their former friend, Tim, and saw a complete imposter in his place? No. This was ten times more heartbreaking. I had lost more than just a friend. I had lost the love of my life.

"Prince Prenter will make you happy." Mary stated in a dead tone that told me it wasn't the woman I knew and loved speaking, "He can be your other half and satisfy you in all the ways I can't."

"The real Mary would want me to be happy. Jim Hutton is my other half and I'll only be happy with him as my lover. That's what would make me happy." I knew it was futile to try to reason with Mary when she was in this state, but I at least had to try. "Darling, search deep within your heart, and I know you'll agree with me."

"Make your decision now, Freddie." I jumped at the sound of Paul's nefarious voice. He had been looming in the shadows and now made himself present at the other side of the bars of the cell. I was so focused on Mary that I had failed to notice him prowling in the background like a beast. "Commit to me or Mary leaves you forever."

"You'll miss me so much if we're parted again, Freddie." Mary said, "If you sign the contract, we'll be friends forever and you can see me every day if you'd like."

"Mary, I love you, but this isn't the real you, darling." I sighed, "You should go now. You know my answer." I choked back tears as Mary stared back at me with nothing but disappointment in her eyes. "Goodbye." I forced out, looking anywhere but Mary's face. I found myself addressing Prenter directly, daring to meet his devilish gaze. "Get her out of here, Paul, and don't ever use her to manipulate me again. Release her from your spell. Let her go."

"If you agree to my terms, I'll free her. If not, well, then...Come along, Mary!" Paul unlocked the door and whistled for Mary to follow him out like a dog. My true dear Mary would never follow him blindly like this.

Without saying a single word to me, Mary turned and frolicked after Paul. Stunned, I watched her turn her back to me and leave. I waited for her to look back—at least wave or say some final farewell. "Oh!" Mary gasped, stopping dead in her tracks. I let out a sigh of relief as Mary returned to the bars. Only it wasn't what I thought. I hadn't gotten through to her and she was not coming out of love. She was holding her ring in the palm of her hand instead of wearing it on her finger as she had promised to do. Mine had been removed by force upon arrival to the rebel camp, but if that weren't the case, I'd still be wearing it. Regardless of Jim, I did make a commitment to Mary and wanted to stay true to her. I was hoping that the rings would remain symbolic of our deep friendship. Clearly, this would no longer be the case. "I don't need this anymore!" Mary declared, frivolously discarding the ring onto the dingy floor.

"Let me know if you change your mind, Freddie." Paul said, once again whistling for Mary to return to his side. "I'll be back later to play with you some more until I can encourage you make the right choice. Eventually I'll have a breakthrough, and you'll be mine."

"You know my answer, Paul. I don't belong to you, and I never will!" I shouted.

The duo was almost to the other end of the hall and out of my sight, but I knew Paul heard me. I wanted to make it very clear that I wasn't putting up with his soulless bullshit. With nothing else to lose, I resorted to my secret weapon. My voice was raw and emotional, but it seemed to work even better under these conditions.

_"Love of my life, you've hurt me_

_You've broken my heart and now you leave me_

_Love of my life, can't you see?_

_Bring it back, bring it back_

_Don't take it away from me, because you don't know_

_What it means to me"_

"Freddie?" Mary paused at the door, turning around.

"Come on, my puppet, we're leaving!" Paul growled, but Mary remained planted, and I continued to sing, my teary eyes pleading with Mary's blue ones.  _'Please come back to me, my love.'_ I internally begged knowing that somewhere deep inside of the shell, Mary was still in there.

_"Love of my life, don't leave me_

_You've taken my love, you now desert me_

_Love of my life, can't you see?_

_Bring it back, bring it back..."_

Mary surprised me, whispering back the words to the song she shouldn't even know.

_"Don't take it away from me_

_Because you don't know_

_What it means to me..."_

"I said we're leaving!" Paul snapped. Mary broke free from his grip around her waist and ran back to the bars. I couldn't believe my song worked! I glanced back at Paul shocked face smugly before reaching out to Mary, but of course the bars got in the way. She was staring up at me in wonder. "How do you know that song, Freddie?"

"Darling, I wrote it." I chuckled, "I wrote it for you actually."

"I-I don't understand." Mary stammered, "You couldn't have written it. I've only heard it in my dreams."

"That's because I sang it to you at night when you were sleeping."

That was it! There were no more secrets between us. She officially knew everything about me from my sexuality to my vocal talents. At long last I felt at home with my soulmate. "I wanted to tell you for the longest time, but it was just too dangerous for you to know."

Mary nodded. "It makes sense you know. I only hear music in my dreams when I fall asleep next to you. I've missed those dreams since you've gone, Freddie. I miss you, Freddie. I was so cared that I would never see you again" She blinked several times appearing somewhat disconcerted. "I feel like I'm still dreaming. I can't for the life of me remember how I got here. The last thing I remember I was at the neighborhood community services center working with the most unhelpful secretary in the world to try to get you out of here or at least schedule a visitation. Then...Prince Prenter showed up. Yes now I remember. He said that I could free you if I followed his exact instructions...and I have no memories after that. I just heard you singing like you do in my dreams and now here we are."

"There's no way." Paul muttered, glaring at me, "How the hell did you pull this off, Mercury?"

"I believe you've underestimated me, dear."

"Prince Prenter?" Mary innocently acknowledged the soulless, "I wish I could remember what instructions you gave me to free Freddie."

"No you don't!" I shouted, "Mary, he hypnotized you. I was only able to get you back by singing. I can't lose you again, my love."

"I did no such thing." Paul said, creepily approaching Mary. His eyes were aimed at me as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "You are simply confused. Soon you'll remember why you're here. You need to break Freddie's heart." I knew now how to break his wicked spell, so I didn't waste any breath attempting to reason with Mary. Instead I used my voice solely for song knowing it would work again.

_"You will remember_

_When this is blown over_

_Everything's all by the way_

_When I grow older_

_I will be there at your side to remind you_

_How I still love you..."_

"Unlock the cell and let me in there so I can punch his lights out." Mary said darkly.

"What the fuck?" I cried, not expecting her sudden sinister outburst. Why didn't the song work like it did the first time? What was I missing?

"Be my guest." Paul said with a snakelike smile, "But don't do too much damage. Then I'll have a broken toy on my hands."

I rolled my eyes when he referred to me as his toy. What could I do to get the message across to this bastard that I didn't belong to him? One thing at time; I prioritized on getting Mary back. If I could do it once then I could certainly do it again.

"Mary, I know you don't want to hurt me." I pleaded as Paul unlocked the cell door. Paul just sneered as he pulled the key from the lock and gestured for Mary to enter. It all happened in a flash. Mary moved in a blur, elbowing Paul to catch him off guard and snatch the keys. My eyes may have deceived me but I also saw her swiftly bend over to retrieve her ring from the floor.

"Freddie, come on let's get out of here!" She hollered grabbing my hand.

"You were faking, weren't you?" I realized. Mary gave me a quick nod and tugged at my hand. "Oh you clever darling!" I exclaimed as we sprinted down the hall hand in hand. Since Paul wasn't expecting Mary's brilliant scheme, we were favored by the element of the surprise. By the time Paul figured out what had happened and began to chase us, we were nearing the threshold. Thankfully, we were speedy enough to make our grand escape dashing to the other side of the door in the nick of time. Always being one of dramatic endeavors, I took great joy in slamming the door in Paul's face allowing Mary to lock it with her stolen set of keys.

"I guess I'm officially a rebel now." Mary laughed.

"You're in good company, my dear." I assured her, "Now let's see if that key is a master and we're able to free my friends with it."

The door rattled presumably from Paul barging against it, and I knew it was only a matter of time until he broke free, but I would worry about that later. If my theory was correct and the key was a master, we could bust out my bandmates and our fellow rebel friends like Bowie and Elton. We could all get out of here together. Then we'd hide somewhere on the outskirts of Rhye and focus on our love and music and hopefully achieve a breakthrough powerful enough to destroy the soulless before they came for us.

"Freddie, I think we need to talk." Mary pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Now?" I cried, "Darling, you have horrible timing. We're in the middle of a bloody prison break! Do you think Bonnie ever interrupted a heist so she could sort out her relationship troubles with Clyde?"  _'If she did, Clyde would rightly call her a bitch and get on with the robbery.'_  I thought, but didn't dare say this to Mary because the last thing I wanted to do was imply that she was a bitch.

Fortunately, Mary was quite proficient at holding a conversation while running upstairs so we weren't wasting any time. "I just want you to know that I understand everything now, and there are absolutely no hard feelings between us." Despite her poor timing, I relished her words of confirmation.

"Never any hard feelings." I agreed, "We'll always be a part of each other's lives."

"Without a doubt." Mary panted, "T-These stairs just keeping g-going and going, don't they?"

"We're almost there. Just one more flight." I said, taking my agility for granted, "Once we're upstairs, we'll see if the key works. I can't wait for you to meet my friends."

"When you were sent here, I was so scared that you'd be locked away with violent criminals, but it sounds like the others are mostly here for minor infractions like you?" There was a hopefulness in Mary's voice as she caught her breath. I could see the wheels turning in her head as she tried to wrap her around the party's blatant lies. The majority of the rebels weren't dangerous at all, but she had been trained to believe otherwise.

"My friends are all musicians like me. That's why they're here. We have a plan—well, we're working on a plan—to put an end to the New Order and bring music back to Rhye. I'm going to be the frontman of a band called Queen with three of my best mates. It'll be a dream come true if we can achieve it." It felt so good to tell all this to Mary. I would've told her a long time ago, but I only wanted to protect her.

"God, I never should have pressured you into signing that contract. I assume it would have messed with your voice or something horrible. Oh, Freddie, you have to forgive me. I was completely blinded by the party's propaganda. You should know that nothing you do is wrong no matter what anyone else ever tells you."

"I can think of several things I've done wrong." I admitted, "Keeping such an important part of my life a secret from you for so long was one of them. Even if I did it to protect you, you should've known. From now on though, I promise you know everything, Mary. I'm a gay rebel with a singing voice powerful enough to break the curse that the soulless placed over Rhye, and now I stand before you naked to the eye. Do you accept me for who I am, my love?"

"Do you even need to ask?" Mary threw her arms around me, "I love you, Freddie, my best friend, my soulmate."

For a moment, I believed it was too good to be true. I couldn't have my cake and eat it too. Then my fears were confirmed. I felt something metallic and round being placed in the palm of my hand. It was Mary's ring. Why was she giving it back to me after she just professed her love?

"There's somebody out there who deserves to be more than your best friend, and one day you'll find him. When you do, you'll give this to him." Mary blinked back tears before repeating, "No hard feelings." Ah. Now I understood, and I was left with a strange bittersweetness I couldn't quite wrap my head around.

"Thank you." I whispered with sincerest gratitude, "You also deserve somebody to love in that way, darling. One day you'll find him as well."

"This is the strangest breakup I've ever experienced." Mary exhaled.

"That's because it's not a breakup." I clarified, "Our relationship isn't over, Mary. It will never be over. We're just no longer romantically involved." I held my bracelet up gesturing to the pink light that matched hers to prove my point. If we really were through, the light would revert to blue or may even go dark altogether. "But enough of this Valentino stuff. It's time to—"

I stopped myself when I at last reached the top of the stairwell. The industrial hallway matching the one we had just emerged from was erupt with chaos. The greatest of rock icons were fighting back against armed guards in what could only be described as a full on riot. Before my mind could register the legends surrounding me, I noticed that many of the guards were dropping dead before any of the idols could lay a hand on them. Soulless! They were dying because all of these talented musicians had been revived and would bring happiness through their music! The Beatles were no longer flash frozen, and I had to do several double takes as I watched the four of them, live in the flesh, standing their ground against the attacking soulless. Paul McCartney, George Harrison and Ringo Starr were hesitantly fighting back while John Lennon stood still as an emblem of peace refusing to partake in any violence whatsoever. Of course I admired that, and I admired the man in general beyond words, but his pacifist stance was going to get him killed!

"Mary, go unlock as many doors as you can and get more rebels out here to join the fight." I instructed.

With that, I lunged at one of the guards who had the audacity to charge at John Lennon. Only someone else leapt in front of him and attacked the officer for me. I gasped. "Mick Jagger?"

"I got this one! Go stop that g—Never mind, Hendrix has him."

"This is bloody mad!" I cried as I watched the one and only Jimi Hendrix tackle another guard who was also stampeding towards John Lennon. In fact, most of them seemed fixated on the one Beatle member who abstained from the fight.

"Why are they all after Lennon?" I wondered casually sticking my foot out to trip yet another guard rushing toward the beloved musician.

"We don't know." Eric Clapton said.

"But we have to stick up for our fellow rebels." Robert Plant insisted, "Especially after we've all been flash frozen. Isn't that right, Jimmy?" Jimmy Page gave his bandmate a thumbs up as he kicked a guard to the ground.

"This is the best day of my life!!!" I heard the unique high pitched squeal all the way from across the hall. With the delighted look of a toddler in a candy shop, Roger ran to join three out of four Beatles in the fight. "I love you guys! I'm a huge fan!" He wiped tears of joy from his eyes as he punched more soulless guards attempting to get past the barrier Paul McCartney George and Ringo had built around John Lennon.

"I found your friends." Mary announced gesturing to my bandmates, "They seem very nice!"

She went back to free more rebels as Deaky and Brian accustomed themselves to the star powered riot they had stumbled into. "This is not at all what I was expecting when we revived everyone." Brian exclaimed.

"What were you expecting, darling? You've pissed off the soulless and the brainwashed party members. There was no way this could have ended without a little conflict." I said all while putting my boxing skills to good use to deter the attackers from getting close to Lennon.

"I don't know what I was expecting. Maybe I just wanted to Jimi Hendrix to sign my guitar, but instead I'm battling soulless with him." Brian, like the Beatles, and a handful of the other rockstars turned superheroes, made a face of disgust showing that he was uncomfortable with the violence. I was preoccupied with the battle, but I expected that Deaky was likely cowering in a corner and one of us would have to comfort him. However, out of the corner of my eye, I was surprised to see that I was completely wrong. Although slightly paler than usual, the bassist appeared to be enjoying himself. Perhaps killing Shane had pushed him over the edge?

"This is kind of fun." Deaky laughed in a fallen soulless's face, "Ha! Another one bites the dust!"

"I'm worried about him." I whispered to Bowie who was at my side using one of his crutches as a weapon. Don't ask where he came from; he just sort of appeared out of nowhere. Even with a leg in a cast he was still able to kick some ass!

With all of the action going on around me, I could hardly focus on Deaky. It was amazing that Miami was even able to catch my attention over the uproar. "Miami, darling! It's about time you showed up." I proclaimed.

"Brian, John, good job cracking the code!" He applauded the guitarists while dodging the punches of the soulless, "But fighting like this isn't the answer and you know it. Look to the songbird. He holds the answer."

Brian and Deaky both glanced at me while I continued to fight having no clue what Miami wanted from us. "No, not Freddie, the other songbird." He stated as if that was more helpful.

Or maybe it was more helpful than I thought. John Lennon was the only one not fighting, and there was a reason for it. Love was the only way to stop the soulless. I knew of no one better to spread that message.

"You've got it, Freddie. End the fight." Miami encouraged.

I backed away from the soulless I was fighting long enough to expand my lungs with a big gulp of air. Projecting like I never had before, I crooned as loudly as I could manage. "AYYYY-OOOH!"

Everyone stopped what they were doing. There was a deafening silence. And then... "AYYY-OOOH!" I had an entire room of the most talented rockstars, immortal creatures and demons alike in the palm of my hand. They were glued to my every move, mimicking my every note. I had never felt so alive in my entire life. With a rush of energy I belted my final "Ay-Oh!" before noticing that many of the soulless were beginning to fall. Miami was right. There was no need for violence. "Alright!" I exclaimed only to get a repeated "Alright!" from my audience.

I beamed brightly, not caring that my teeth were exposed to all to see. Fighting back against the adrenaline, I focused my mind on what was at stake. As much as it killed me, I needed to step down from the stage and give the spotlight to somebody else. "Listen my darlings, under normal circumstances, I'd sing you a song right now, but I don't think I'm the right person for this task." All the pairs of eyes followed my gaze now fixated on the one man who could convey a song to bring us peace at last. "Mr. John Lennon," I couldn't believe I was addressing him, but my confidence was not shattered even the tiniest bit, "would you please do us the honor, darling?"

"Of course." He said.

_"Imagine there's no heaven_

_It's easy if you try_

_No hell below us_

_Above us only sky_

_Imagine all the people living for today_

_Imagine there's no countries_

_It isn't hard to do_

_Nothing to kill or die for_

_And no religion too_

_Imagine all the people living life in peace, you_

_You may say I'm a dreamer_

_But I'm not the only one_

_I hope some day you'll join us_

_And the world will be as one_

_Imagine no possessions_

_I wonder if you can_

_No need for greed or hunger_

_A brotherhood of man_

_Imagine all the people sharing all the world, you_

_You may say I'm a dreamer_

_But I'm not the only one_

_I hope some day you'll join us_

_And the world will be as one."_

The applause rippled throughout the entire hall, loud enough to consume anything or anyone in its path. A swarm of positive energy was palpable like electricity sparking through the sky. I could feels its vibrations embracing me following the magic of that powerful performance.

Miami nodded. "They're gone." he announced, "Every single soulless is defeated. All except one." 

Those last three words dampened my spirits. All except one. Paul Prenter was now the only thing standing between us and freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was intense! For the record, I will be referring to Paul McCartney by his full name and John Lennon either by his full name or just Lennon so they're not confused with Prenter and Deaky. Anyway, the next chapter will be fluff filled fun of the rockstars mingling and then the chapter after that will be the epic showdown we're all waiting for AKA Freddie vs Paul. Stay tuned!


	19. All Dead All Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queen attempts to end Paul with the power of their music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few announcements before we begin. I know I promised a chapter of fun filled fluff in which Queen mingles with the other rock legends, but I decided that I’m going to save that for the sequel. That’s right guys! I’m writing a sequel to Rebels of Rhye called Rockstars of Rhye. Anyway there are only 2 more chapters left until we get there. So prepare yourselves for an ending that will rock your world and leave you wanting more (which you will get in the sequel). Also you might want to have your tissue boxes handy because before we reach that happy conclusion there’s a depressing stop along the way in this chapter. If the title of this chapter doesn’t tell you enough already, consider yourself warned!

_Freddie’s POV_

I must have been sick. No, darlings, don’t worry, I don’t mean sick as in dying of some horrid disease heaven forbid. I mean sick as in under the weather and not feeling quite like myself. Shortly after the flash frozen were revived, the Queen of Rhye made an announcement calling Paul out for who and what he really was and officially abolishing the New Order. We were free! So where was I?

Well, upstairs the former rebels were throwing an outrageous party, one that was just begging to be graced by my extravagant presence. I fucking loved parties almost as much as sex, and that is certainly saying something if you know how much I love sex. I especially fancied crazy parties where anything could happen, and there was nothing more wild than the exploding raucous of celebration going on upstairs.

Yet, here I was downstairs, far away from all of the thrills and completely alone. Frantically pacing back and forth, I listened to the muffled cheers coming from upstairs all masked by someone rattling against the locked door at the end of the hallway. I knew I had to go in there and face the beast that lurked inside known as Paul Prenter. We wouldn’t be truly free until the last living soulless was all dead and gone.

“Knock, knock.” Roger was so drunk that he nearly tumbled down the stairs, but that didn’t stop his goofy grin from spreading widely. He caught the paper crown atop his head before it could fall. “Freddie,” he slurred, “why aren’t you partying with us?” Good question. I’ve been asking myself that same exact thing. I continued to stare at the door holding back Paul.

“Don’t ignore me, Freddie.” Roger grunted, “I know you know I’m here. It’s not like I’m the invisible man.” Before I could bother telling Roger that I wasn’t ignoring him but I was nearly lost in thought, his attention had shifted. “Look at my crown, Freddie. Look!” Roger took off the makeshift crown and waved in my face like an excited child showing off his finger painting. I gasped when I realized the paper crown was singed and more importantly who signed it.

_‘Roger—They laughed at us when we sang a song about a yellow submarine, and it became a hit, so your car song will turn out fine. Best of luck!—John, Paul, George, Ringo’_

“I’m friends with the Beatles now.” Roger giggled, “The fucking Beatles! I can’t believe it!” Drunk Roger continued a bizarre combination of bragging and rambling that somehow ended with him singing a slurred rendition of  _Drive My Car_  by the Beatles.

“By the way, darling, that is the proper example of a song about a car.” Normally, Roger would have scolded something along the line of “damnit, it’s a metaphor!”, but now he just started laughing, and it was quite infectious. I couldn’t help myself, I laughed right along with him. There was something about Roger in this inebriated state that made him more fun, almost like a playful kitten.

“We’re finally freeee!” Roger squealed, “So why are you down here? I know you love to party, Fred. C’mon! Let’s go celebrate! I bet if we get Deaky drunk enough, he’ll show off his disco moves.”

“I’m not really in the mood, darling.” This was so unlike me as I was usually the first one to suggest a party. Only there was something about Paul being behind that door that dampened my spirits. At the thought of Paul, I felt my fingers naturally trailing to the site of my scar hidden behind the jumpsuit. What would happen if I joined the party? I’d let loose and go crazy and dance the night away, but that wasn’t the problem. The problem would arrive at the end of the night when I’d inevitably find myself in someone’s bed, no doubt Jim’s. I couldn’t trust myself around Jim much longer, and I knew he was waiting for the perfect moment as well. We were too much in love to end the intimacy at this current level. However, I knew that when I removed my clothes, a necessary step in bringing us the great pleasure we yearned for,  _‘Prenter’s Bitch’_  would make itself evident as it was forever etched into my flesh.

“You’re worse than boring Brian.” Roger complained, not noticing my inner anguish, “All he’s doing is sitting and talking with his dad.”

“Well his father was flash frozen for over ten years.” I pointed out, “Shouldn’t they get a chance to reunite?”

“Not when there’s a rock and roll party going on! You three are totally making me look bad in front of Mick Jagger. He asked me where my band was, and I pointed to Deaky being cute and shy in the corner, not really the partying type which is fine, but then there’s Brian’s with his dad not having any fun, and you’re…I don’t even know what you’re doing down here.”

“I told you I’m not in the mood.” My tone came out sharper than I intended thankfully Roger didn’t pick up on my sudden animosity.

Paul’s rattling against the door became more violent and Roger involuntarily showed off his vocal capacity with a shrilly scream. “Oh God! It’s the zombies! Quick let’s spray paint  _Don’t Open Dead Inside_  on the door and pray that people aren’t stupid enough to open it!”

How Roger even reached the conclusion of zombie breakout was beyond me, but he was drunk, so I cut him some slack. “It’s not a zombie in there.” I explained patiently, “It’s Prenter.”

“Gross! That’s worse than zombies. Why can’t he just die like the rest of the soulless?”

“Because I have to go in there and do the job myself.” Speaking the words aloud solidified their reality and made my situation all the more intimidating. Still I wouldn’t back down, not when I came this far.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Freddie.” Roger warned.

I snickered. “That’s a riot coming from you, my dear.”

“I’m serious.” He drawled, no doubt trying to focus himself in spite of the alcohol, “Do you want me to drag Brian’s ass down here? He’s better at explaining why a dumb idea is dumb and can probably convince you better than I can.”

“I haven’t even told you my idea yet, so how can you know that it’s dumb?”

Roger pointed to the constant banging and clattering of the door. “If you open that door, you’ll let the monster out and then we’ll be fucked.”

“He’s eventually going to knock the bloody door down. I’m surprised he hasn’t done so already.” I argued.

“Because he’s weakening. The fun of the party upstairs is destroying him. He can’t take all this happiness. So the best thing you can do right now is enjoy yourself.”

It was like Roger took the words straight from Miami’s mouth, and sure enough the immortal came rushing down the stairs. Brian and John were following him, but one thing was amiss. The guitarists were no longer wearing their dull jumpsuits. Deaky had on a baggy pair of blue jeans and a flannel shirt. Brian was in jeans as well but the denim was a darker shade of blue and he had on a brown vest. The one thing I noticed of course were the signature clogs. John and Brian were sporting their bass and red special respectively.

“No fair.” Roger purred enviously eyeing the guitarists, “I want a new wardrobe too.”

“I couldn’t agree more, darling. Let’s shed these drab jumpsuits already!”

“Say no more.” Miami said with a small smile. He snapped his fingers, and suddenly Roger was wearing a pair of tight black satin pants and a stripped short sleeved shirt, and his blue eyes were hidden behind stylish sunglasses. His drum set also appeared out of nowhere. I didn’t have much time to take in Roger’s new outfit because I was focused on the broken microphone which had materialized into my grasp. My eyes traveled downward noting my white sleeveless shirt and jeans along with a leather bracelet on my upper arm which matched my belt. I always envisioned myself in something outlandish, elaborate and colorful, but the simplicity of this new outfit held its own sophistication and somehow made me feel powerful in my stance. “Not bad.” I smiled to myself.

“Not bad?” Roger giggled, “We finally look like real rockstars!”

“That’s because we  _are_  real rockstars.” Brian said.

“No. We’re not just rockstars.” I declared, holding my microphone in the air, “We’re legends!”

“I feel like I should say something encouraging to add to this pep talk.” John muttered, “Um, we’re real rockstar legends!”

“Fuck yeah!” Roger screamed.

“Save your voice, darling, you’re going to need it.” I advised, turning to our fairy godmother known as Miami, “I think I know what you want us to do.”

Miami nodded. “When you’re ready I’ll open that door and unleash the final soulless and your music will finally destroy him.”

“This is mad.” Brian proclaimed, but he was smiling and although Deaky was trembling slightly, his lips were also curved upward, and of course Roger was beaming widely. “Let’s face it with a grin!” I encouraged with a grin of my own proudly showing off my teeth. “Rog, give us a beat!” “Ready Freddie!” Roger shouted and began to drum. Brian John and I stomped and clapped along to the rhythm. This was it! “Miami, open the door!”

The moment the door was even slightly ajar, Paul lunged toward me like a crazed animal, but I was prepared. I pushed him down, pinning to the ground with my shoe on his chest. Filled with confidence, I stared down into his evil eyes and I sang directly to him.

_“Buddy, you're a boy, make a big noise_

_Playing in the street, gonna be a big man someday_

_You got mud on your face, you big disgrace_

_Kicking your can all over the place, singin'_

_We will, we will rock you_

_We will, we will rock you’_

My bandmates backed me up vocally on the chorus (not that I needed it). I watched in glee as Paul stiffened below me. His skin was paling, and he appeared to be disintegrating. Our music was working!

_‘Buddy, you're a young man, hard man_

_Shouting in the street, gonna take on the world someday_

_You got blood on your face, you big disgrace_

_Waving your banner all over the place_

_We will, we will rock you, sing it out_

_We will, we will rock you_

_Buddy, you're an old man, poor man_

_Pleading with your eyes, gonna get you some peace someday_

_You got mud on your face, big disgrace_

_Somebody better put you back into your place!_

_We will, we will rock you, sing it_

_We will, we will rock you, everybody_

_We will, we will rock you_

_We will, we will rock you, alright’_

“Go Brian go!” I hollered prancing alongside him as he performed his guitar solo. Deaky was unleashing some disco moves of his own, and Roger emerged from behind the drum set to take my place holding Paul down as I danced. We were doing it! Paul was dying before our very eyes.

“Keep going!” Miami prompted.

My eyes widened as I noticed the magnificent grand piano suddenly resting on the side of Roger’s drum set. The instrument wasn’t there before, but I didn’t dare question the magic. Taking a seat at the bench, I fastened my broken mic stand to the piano. My fingers settled on the keys and I started to play.

_‘I've paid my dues_

_Time after time._

_I've done my sentence_

_But committed no crime._

_And bad mistakes‒_

_I've made a few._

_I've had my share of sand kicked in my face_

_But I've come through.’_

I opened my eyes, and nodded to my brothers as they released Paul and focused solely on the song, sining and playing along with me.

_‘And I need to go on and on, and on, and on._

_We are the champions, my friends._

_And we'll keep on fighting 'til the end._

_We are the champions._

_We are the champions._

_No time for losers_

_'Cause we are the champions of the world.’_

A rush of electricity surged through my fingers as they continued to grace the piano keys. Paul was still lying flat on his back as I lost myself in the next verse.

_‘I've taken my bows,_

_And my curtain calls._

_You brought me fame and fortune, and everything that goes with it._

_I thank you all.’_ I blew a kiss to Brian, Roger and Deaky before ripping the mic stand off the piano and going into the next verse while standing.

_‘But it's been no bed of roses,_

_No pleasure cruise._

_I consider it a challenge before the whole human race,_

_And I ain't gonna lose.’_

Another indescribable wave of energy flowed through me as I belted the chorus again, my bandmates alongside me. This was what I had fought so hard to achieve. Now that I was here singing my heart out without any shocks or repercussions just like I had in my vision, I knew that there was no way I could ever go back. This was my life now. I was made to be a star and shine bright enough to spread music all across Rhye!

_‘We are the champions, my friends,_

_And we'll keep on fighting 'til the end._

_We are the champions._

_We are the champions._

_No time for losers_

_'Cause we are the champions.’_

I was so caught up in the momentum and adrenaline that I failed to realize that the others were no longer singing with me. As I took in one last breath preparing for the final “of the world” to end the song, I noticed that Paul was not on the ground anymore. He was standing upright, now directly in front of me, weakened to the point that he resembled a rotting corpse. His voice was weak and barely audible but the threat was still legitimate. “If I’m going down, Mercury, then I’m taking you with me.”

I heard the horrified cries of my bandmates before I felt the sharp pain and associated it with likely the same knife Paul had used to mark me. I clutched my heart and fell to the ground, blood now seeping through my white shirt. Not only did Paul just likely stab me to death, but he also ruined the first outfit I had been given since the dreaded jumpsuit. All this blood would no doubt leave a stain that would be impossible to get out.

“We need to get him to a hospital!” Brian cried, pushing past Paul to get to me.

“I-I’m fine.” I coughed up more blood. No, I was not fine. I was about to die, and Paul’s face was filling out again. He was regaining strength from my pain. I couldn’t allow this to happen. I’ve yet to have my finest hour. It couldn’t end like this, but I was overcome with disorientation. I blinked through my spinning, blurring vision, spotting Roger crying as he comforted an inconsolable Deaky.

“Freddie, stay with me.” Brian spoke softly, stifling back his tears, “We’re getting you help.”

“Shame really.” Paul spoke. As my strength withered, I felt my anger pick up alongside the pain, “One more song would have done the trick.”

One more song would have killed him? Did I still have it in me? My world was darkening and I was fighting to stay conscious. Of course I had it in me. If this was how it had to end, then I’d go down in style. “I’ll fucking do it, darling.” I choked somehow finding the strength to reach for my dropped mic stand.

With everything I had left within me, I stood on shaky legs. Brian held me steady, shaking his head and biting his lip. I knew what I was doing. Boldly, I sang directly to Paul again, knowing that this may be the very last time I ever used my voice.

_‘Empty spaces, what are we living for?_

_Abandoned places, I guess we know the score_

_On and on, does anybody know what we are looking for?_

_Another hero, another mindless crime_

_Behind the curtain, in the pantomime_

_Hold the line, does anybody want to take it anymore?’_

Paramedics arrived with a stretcher, but I put my hand up to stop them and kept going, defying death so I could put an end to what I had started.

‘ _The show must go on_

_The show must go on_

_Yeah_

_Inside my heart is breaking_

_My make-up may be flaking_

_But my smile still stays on’_

“Freddie,” Roger bawled, “you don't have to…” His voice was drifting away but I fought to remain conscious and focused on the song because I knew it was working. Paul was on the ground again, and he was dying just like I was. Perfect.

‘ _Whatever happens, I'll leave it all to chance_

_Another heartache, another failed romance_

_On and on, does anybody know what we are living for?_

_I guess I'm learning (I'm learning), I must be warmer now_

_I'll soon be turning (turning, turning, turning), 'round the corner now_

_Outside the dawn is breaking_

_But inside in the dark I'm aching to be free.’_

I pushed myself further, refusing to give in even though I knew it was the end. I could feel my body fighting back against me ready to drop dead, but I told it to fuck off and work with me. I’d be dying on my own terms.

_‘The show must go on_

_The show must go on (yeah yeah)_

_Ooh, inside my heart is breaking_

_My make-up may be flaking_

_But my smile still stays on_

_Yeah_

_My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies_

_Fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die_

_I can fly my friends.’_

My legs finally gave way and I collapsed in exhaustion, but I continued to sing as I was carried onto the stretcher determined to end this song before I died.

‘ _The show must go on, yeah_

_The show must go on_

_I'll face it with a grin_

_I'm never giving in_

_On with the show’_

I would have shut my eyes and gave into the warming fatigue when I saw Paul fade away into nothing but dust, his soulless reign forever quelled. However, a light caught my attention, and not a heavenly overhead light that I thought I would be rising toward, but a more natural source. It was a pink light flashing on my bracelet.

Miami ushered both Jim and Mary to either side of me. The devastated looks on my soulmates’ faces hurt more than the pain of being stabbed. Miami leaned down and placed Delilah on my lap. He said something, but his voice was far away. The grieving faces of my bandmates behind him morphed together as my world became a swirling spinning ball of colorful nothingness. Before I parted with my body, I engaged with my voice one last time.

_“Ooh, I'll top the bill, I'll overkill_

_I have to find the will to carry on_

_(On with the show, on with the show)_

_Show (show must go on, go on)”_

Are you still here, darlings? I’m afraid I’m not anymore. Goodbye everybody. I’ve got to go. I shall see you at the rainbow’s end because I don’t believe I’m dead and gone. All dead and gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters and a sequel? Please, Freddie, darling, stop being such a drama queen, you’re not dead!
> 
> Ah man this was a hard one to write especially with the real life context behind The Show Must Go On. I figured it’d be too easy for them to just take down Paul without a bit of a sacrifice, but don’t worry, a happy ending awaits us at the rainbow’s end. I have a feeling we haven’t heard the last from our Freddie. Stay tuned!


	20. Doing All Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian finds his soulmate and Freddie recovers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I tried to write some angst, but midway through it turned into fluff and this is the result. Enjoy!

_Brian’s POV_

“We did it.” Roger sighed staring down despondently at the glass in his hand.

“They said he’ll be out of surgery by the end of the night.” I said, refusing to look at the third empty seat next to me where Freddie should have been sitting with us.

Of course I couldn’t help but feel guilty. If I had gotten to Freddie faster, I could have snatched the blade away from Paul. I recalled the look of determination on Freddie’s face as he sang one last time. There was no stopping him, but now I wondered if the delay of the paramedics was a detriment. Should I have intervened? It was too late now.

“I never thought this day would come.” I reflected, “And I never imagined I’d be so miserable when it did.”

“The sun will be rising tomorrow morning for the first time since the New Order.” John muttered, “I’ve missed sunshine.” The cheerful facade was unconvincing and burst like a dam. John sniffled. “I’d continue going without the sun if…if it meant that we could keep our Freddie.”

“Deaky, stop! You’re going to make me cry, and if I cry, Brian will cry and then we’ll all be crying. Fuck!” Roger sobbed.

The three of us sulked at the bar stools while festivities commenced all around us. I glanced back at my parents dancing together. They appeared happier than I could ever remember them. It was like nothing had changed. Music was playing and people were laughing and enjoying themselves as if such a joyous occasion had never been so starkly prohibited.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Roger groaned wiping the tears from his eyes angrily. Questioningly, I followed his gaze and saw our former friend Tim walking into the bar. What the hell was he doing here and why was he walking toward us? I grabbed Roger’s wrist preventing him from getting up to presumably punch Tim in the face. “We just got our freedom back. Do you really want to land yourself in prison?” “Once a rebel always a rebel.” Roger responded, chugging the rest of his beer and slamming the glass down onto the table.

“Am I about to witness my first bar fight?” Deaky asked, a tint of nervousness in his voice.

Before I could attempt to deescalate the situation, Tim casually took a seat on the stool next to me which we had kept open as Freddie’s unspoken spot. Tim either ignored or was completely oblivious to the rage burning behind Roger’s blue eyes because he maintained his nonchalant demeanor and ordered himself a beer. There was a large bandage on his forehead, but other than that he acted like nothing was wrong.

“So this is really something, huh? Tim said, “We can finally be a real band.”

“Is that your way of saying I’m sorry?” I snapped. It probably wasn’t wise of me to take the hostile route and incite Roger, but Tim’s smugness and lack of shame was getting to me.

“Sorry?” Tim echoed, “What did I do?”

“Can I kill him, Bri? Please please please!” Roger begged.

“Look,” Tim said sharply, “when they unscrambled my brain, I lost all of my memories of whatever happened when I was under the party’s influence. So whatever I did wasn’t my fault. I was brainwashed.” He gestured to the bandage.

“That’s doesn’t make up for what you did to us.” We all turned to look at John as he was a man of few words, but of course when he spoke it was impactful. His tone was cold as ice.

“Um, who the hell are you again?” Tim chuckled, “I’m trying to have a conversation with my two friends here. It doesn’t involve you.”

“We’re not your friends.” Roger growled and I nodded. I wasn’t one to hold grudges, but it was just too difficult to find it in my heart to forgive Tim especially when he claimed to have no memory and therefore couldn’t repent.

“Shit! I must’ve really fucked up. What’d I do?” There was absolutely no remorse in Tim’s tone. If anything he sounded amused. “Did I say something bad about your hair, May? Was that it?”

“Get out!” I shouted, reaching my breaking point surprisingly before Roger.

“Oh come on, Brian. I was just joking around.”

I got up in Tim’s face; the same way Roger would seconds before a deadly fight. “Stay the hell away from us and if we ever hear from you again we’ll file a restraining order.”

“Fine!.” Tim said spitefully spilling his beer onto my lap. “And for the record, I think your hair is stupid.” After Tim stormed off, I let go of Roger’s wrist to stop his attack. “You should’ve let me kill him.” he sighed.

“He’s not worth it.” John remarked, “Remember we only kill soulless.”

Something told me he still hadn’t recovered from killing Shane, but I didn’t want to pry. Deaky would open up when he was ready, but pushing him any sooner could make things worse.

“I can’t believe Tim was petty enough to tell you your hair was stupid.” Roger snickered, “I think he’s just jealous of his own stupid hair.”

I was laughing more out of frustration than anything else. I attempted to clean the spilled beer off of my clothing with some napkins, but I was having no such luck as it was already starting to dry. “I believe the last time someone insulted my hair was in the fourth grade so that shows his maturity level.” I muttered.

I considered calling it a night and heading home. There was really no point in being here other than to drown my feelings of grief and guilt with alcohol. Besides, I didn’t want my dampened spirits to spread to the other patrons who had every right to enjoy themselves and their newfound freedoms.

“The girls are here.” Roger noted, “Maybe they’ll make us feel better.”

I spotted Chrissie alongside Dominique walking through the door. I was falling for Chrissie and our relationship was beginning to blossom, so I figured if anyone could cheer me up it was her. My mood further perked when something miraculous occurred. A shimmering pink light emerged from my bracelet. Of course! My signal was no longer blocked, so I was shining a bright pink for Chrissie. I was right to believe in what I had with her. She was the one after all!

“Um, Bri, I think—“ I ignored Roger and briskly strode over to my girlfriend, greeting her with a kiss. Oddly enough Chrissie did not kiss back and was quick to pull away from my embrace. I probably smelled of alcohol right now. I blamed the beer for making me act too forward. “Sorry.” I apologized, “I’m just really happy to see you. Look!” I held up my bracelet frowning when I saw it had reverted back to blue. No! Was I imagining things? Could my bracelet be malfunctioning? The system had only been overridden to ban shocks just a few hours ago perhaps there was a glitch.

“Brian, listen.” Chrissie gulped, “I really like you, but I…well, we’re both blue.”

“W-what are you saying?” I stammered.

“I met my soulmate, and he wasn’t you.” She looked down, “I’m sorry. I came here to say goodbye.”

“No!” I cried, “What are you saying?” Things were going so well. This couldn’t be happening! Perhaps I was misunderstanding.

“I’m so sorry.” She repeated, “You deserve to find true love, but it won’t be with me. I hope you can understand.”

“But Chrissie, I was pink! Just seconds ago I—“

Before I could explain what I saw or what I thought I had seen, Roger was forcefully dragging me away. “Brian, you are so fucking clueless sometimes!” He scolded.

“What the hell Roger?” I struggled to get out of Roger’s grip and return to Chrissie. For someone a head smaller than me, he was really strong to be able to push me backward like this. When Roger stopped, we back in front of the stools where we had been seated before.

“I can’t believe you just went and walked right past her!” Roger exclaimed, “You’re such an idiot!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your soulmate, Brian!”

“Have you lost your mind? Chrissie is my soulmate.” I gazed across the room in time to see her leaving, and I felt my heart shatter. How could I lose Chrissie? Our relationship had just begun and I thought it was going strong. Was I really that out of touch? What made it hurt even more was how close I was to believing that we were meant to each other. I saw the pink light with my own two eyes. In fact I was still seeing it. Wait a minute. There was another girl sitting on one of the stools at the end of the table. Her back was to me, but I could make out the pink glow on her arm matching mine. Oh! Chrissie wasn’t meant for me after all. Well this was turning out to be a night full of surprises.

“Took you long enough.” Roger retorted, pushing me in this new girl’s direction.

Not sure what else to do, I took a seat in the stool next to her. My heart was still breaking over Chrissie, but if this woman was my real soulmate, then I should at least keep and open mind and give this new relationship a shot. I purposefully stretched my arm forward hoping she would catch sight of the pink light my bracelet was omitting. When she looked up and smiled back at me, I was taken aback by how beautiful she was…and also slightly familiar. “Have we met?”

“We’re meeting now.” She said, extending her hand, “Anita Dobson.”

“Brian May.”

“Fucking finally!” Deaky shouted from the other side of the table making us both give him a funny look. Veronica elbowed him, and I decided I shouldn’t worry about whatever was going on between those two. I finally found my soulmate! That should be my one and only focus.

“Can I buy you a drink?” I offered noting Roger giving me a thumbs up. If this encounter wasn’t awkward enough already, my friends were not making things any better.

“Wanna go someplace more private?” Anita offered.

“You read my mind. Let’s go.”

***

I wasn’t sure what entranced me more, the natural sunlight peeping through the drapes for the first time in over a decade, or the fluorescent pink glow of my bracelet and a matching one hidden beneath the sheets as Anita lay sleeping snuggled next to me. In the back of my mind I still questioned how it was possible to completely let go of Chrissie so quickly. Then again, she seemed to have disregarded me without giving it a second thought, so I suppose we were even.

On top of finding my soulmate, I still hadn’t wrapped my head around the fact that we were free. My thoughts could race without a care and if I happened to ponder something unauthorized, I wouldn’t receive a shock. The bracelet only remained on my wrist to light the way to my soulmate. Another function when my bracelet vibrated and a message displayed on the screen. Yes, the gadget was more than just a soul reader and was now most comparable to a smart phone or tablet, but I still considered the display of blue and pink lights of attraction to be its main purpose.

‘Message received from Roger_M_Taylor:  _Get your lazy ass up! Fred’s out of surgery. Deaky and I have been knocking at your door for the past hour.’_

Now that I was fully conscious I could make out the violent bangs against the front door. If Roger hadn’t sent that message, I would have assumed we were being burglarized. Anita somehow slept through the noise and continued to snooze. I made a mental note of her heavy sleep patterns because I envisioned myself becoming quite accustomed to them in the future. I brushed her hair aside and pressed my lips to her head. “Brian…l-love you.” She slurred sleepily so much in a daze that I doubt she meant it. Still the confession made my heart flutter.

“I’ll be back later. The boys and I are going to visit Freddie.” I whispered. When Anita didn’t respond I assumed she had fallen back asleep.

I reveled in how content I felt as I walked out the door. I quite possibly found domestic bliss with the love of my life and Freddie was going to pull through. Things were look up!

“What the hell took you so long?” Roger demanded.

John contrasted the blonde’s impatience with a kind smile. He handed me a coffee mug. “I figure you’d still be sleeping so I brought you some coffee.”

It was the little things that reminded me I wasn’t in a dream. My subconscious wasn’t detailed enough to remember the banishment of caffeine and the destruction of coffee machines under the New Order.

“Bri, since you kept us waiting for over an hour, you’re going to squish your long legs in the backseat.” Roger announced.

I barely heard what he said because I was too busy taking in his Neighborhood 1 car parked directly outside of my Neighborhood 5 residence. Again, there was a pause as if I were waiting for Roger’s bracelet to light red for his infraction of unauthorized transportation, but nothing happened. Cramming into the backseat, I struggled to remember the last time I had taken a ride in a privately operated vehicle rather than a bus commandeered by the party. No instances came to mind. “This is my first time in a car.” I blurted.

“You’re joking!” Roger exclaimed as he casually weaved through the roads seeming to ignore the fact that the border wall was nowhere to be seen. Peering out into the horizon I could spot the seven seas no longer blocked by the wall. This was all so surreal.

“Cars are a neighborhood 1 privilege.” John muttered with a hint of resentment.

“Now all the neighborhoods can have cars so there’s no need for jealousy.” Roger said, “I can even give you guys driving lessons if you’d like.” Holding the wheel, he mindlessly began to sing. “ _The machine of a dream…”_

“ _I’m in love with my car…”_ I sang a lower harmony when Roger reached the chorus. What can I say? It may be dumb, but it sure was a catchy tune and I was in a chipper mood. Roger smirked at me in the rearview mirror. Deaky just rolled his eyes. Shortly after the sing along, we reached the Rhye hospital where we rushed inside eager and anxious to see how Freddie was doing.

Roger shoved himself in front of me as we stopped at the receptionist’s desk. He leaned over, drumming his fingers nervously against the hard surface. “We’re here to see Freddie Mercury.” There was an understandable desperation in his voice. The receptionist stared back at him blankly. “Who?”

“Farrokh Bulsara.” I clarified. Freddie thankfully never did sign that contract so his Mercury technically wasn’t his legal name as of now.

“Oh yes.” She identified the file, “Unfortunately at this time, only family and soulmates are allowed to visit Mr. Bulsara.”

“Bullshit!” Roger shouted, “We’re his brothers.”

“On the file it says he only has a sister, but if I can scan your bracelets, I’ll be able to clear up the confusion and add you to the chart as his other siblings.”

“Well we’re not related by blood.” I said only to have Roger step on my foot. Did he think he could get away with this lie? Why was I surprised when Roger so facetiously explained. “What my loopy brother means to say is that we’re adopted. I’m sure you’ve noticed that we share no resemblance since I’m clearly way more attractive than these two. Regardless, we’re still brothers and you should let us see Freddie.”

“If it was an official legal adoption it will show up on the bracelet scan.” The receptionist said firmly. She was clearly not buying Roger’s fabricated story no matter how much he wanted it be to true.

“Don’t worry about it.” Someone called from around the corner. Freddie’s ex girlfriend but forever soulmate Mary Austin stepped forward. “They’re with me. Come on, boys!”

“Thank you for your troubles.” John respectfully told the receptionist as Roger gave her the finger. Being a gentleman like John I nodded and thanked her as well before Mary led us to Freddie’s room. It was such a relief to know that Freddie was going to survive after all and everything was alright. Only that positive feeling that was warming within me from the moment I woke up alongside Anita immediately sunk when I saw Freddie in the bed with tubes probing out of his body. His eyes were shut and he was unresponsive. This was not what I was expecting. Roger and Deaky also shifted uncomfortably beside me, masking their gasps of disappointment. I was no medic but I was able to recognize that Freddie’s heart and breathing monitors were thankfully normal. He should be awake right now. Why was he in a coma?

“I-Is he just asleep or…has he not waken up yet?” Roger whispered.

“The doctors say he’s stable and should be waking up very soon.” Mary said, “How about you boys watch over him while I go see how Jim is coming trying to sneak Delilah in here.”

“We can do that.” John said shakily.

Mary’s took Freddie’s still hand and gave it a squeeze before leaving us alone with him. We stood around the bed awkwardly. I cleared my throat feeling that something needed to be said.

“Hey Freddie.” I said softly, “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m here and Roger and Deaky are with me.”

“We did it, Freddie!” Roger sniffled, “Prenter’s gone and we’re free.”

John opened his mouth to say something, but Freddie suddenly stirred. I made a gesture for Roger to keep his voice down as he squealed with a startled excitement. We waited in silence, no one making a move until Freddie groaned slightly. His eyes barely fluttered open, but there was movement. Even at its weakest, Freddie’s voice still held tremendous power. “Ay-Ohh!” He sang out, with a small smirk as he blinked open his eyes. Oh Freddie! I nearly cried as the three of us parroted his note.

However, Freddie’s closed lip smile disappeared when he fully opened his eyes and became aware. “Who the bloody hell are you guys?”

It was the pain meds speaking probably. Freddie was stabbed in the chest, his head wasn’t affected. He couldn’t be this mixed up.

“Oh shit! Don’t tell me you have amnesia, Fred.” Roger exclaimed, daring to speak the words aloud, “You’re not allowed to forget us. I’ll beat the memories back into your head if I have to goddamn it!”

When Freddie rolled his head back against the pillow and laughed, I caught on and let out a sigh of relief. “Oh my darlings, you should have seen the looks on your faces. It was hilarious! Did you really think I could ever forget my best mates?”

“That is not funny!” I scolded.

“Oh lighten up, dear. I didn’t almost die for you three to act like you’re at my funeral.” Freddie grunted as he sat up, “So, we saved Rhye and music and freedom are back. What else did I miss?”

I shook my head at how casual he was acting, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. “Long live Freddie Mercury.” I declared.

“Long live Queen.” He corrected me.

“Long live Queen.” We echoed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You see? What did I tell you? Freddie’s doing all right! He’s even cracking jokes (very cruel jokes, but jokes nonetheless). We only have one more chapter and an epilogue left! It’s gonna be a very fluffy and of course very happy ending. We made it through the darkness and saved Rhye from the soulless. Good job guys!


	21. "I've Lost My Shoe!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie's family is always there for him!

_Freddie’s POV_

Well my darlings it looks like we have reached the end of our story at last. I’m alive and free and my brothers stood by my side. Even though I was in a hospital bed, nothing could dampen this moment.

“By the way, Freddie,” Roger’s face sank as he spoke, “While you were out, they decided to do something about your teeth. It may affect your singing.” My heart nearly stopped seconds before Roger burst out laughing. “I’m so sorry mate. I had to get back at you for that amnesia stunt you pulled.” “You son of a bitch!” I removed the pillow from beneath my head and hurled it at him.

“Oh, Deaky, what are we going to do with these two?” Brian sighed.

I rolled my tongue against my large front teeth in conformation. The overbite was intact. My voice would stay and I would no longer be punished for using it. This was almost too good to be true! Little did I know that things were about to get even better.

“Freddie!” Mary dashed into the room giddily laughing when she saw I was awake. My brush with death really must have been frightening for those on the other side. I didn’t realize the absence of my presence would shake them so heavily.

“Hello, my love.” I greeted Mary warmly as she hugged me. I took in her sight and nodded approvingly. “You look lovelier than ever.” She was wearing a blue sundress that perfectly matched her eye color and was such a contrast to the jumpsuit. I never wanted to lay eyes on another jumpsuit ever again. The only one pieces I’d be wearing from now on were leotards thank you very much.

Mary ruffled her fingers through my hair the way she normally did when I woke up next to her in the morning. I was glad we could still share these types of intimate moments despite removing the romance from our relationship. “I’m still getting used to your short hair.” She mused, “But I think I like it.”

“I’m thinking of growing a mustache.” I told her. “You’ll look handsome no matter what you do.” Mary giggled.

“You two aren’t even a couple anymore and you still treat him better than Dom treats me.” Roger complained.

“Well maybe you should start treating Dom a bit better and she’ll return the favor.” Mary sassed.

“Mary Austin!” I gasped, “You naughty girl! When did you get the back bone to start using that tone with people?

“The day I became a rebel.” She declared.

“It looks like we’ve corrupted her.” Brian laughed.

“Being the soulmate of a rockstar was bound to corrupt her sooner or later.” I dismissed, “Now someone help me up. I am tired of being confined to this bed.”

“Freddie, no! You need to rest.” Mary protested.

I ignored her and kicked the sheets off of my body immediately noticing that I wasn’t in a hospital gown. My shirt had disappeared, but I still had on my jeans and leather bracelet. One foot was protected by a stylish white sneaker while the other was naked. “I’ve lost my shoe!”

“Like Cinderella!” John quipped.

“I caught them discarding your clothes while you were in surgery.” Mary explained, “I saved what I could. The shirt was too bloody to keep, but unfortunately I just couldn’t find the other shoe.”

“That’s alright, darling. I can mange with no shirt and one shoe for now.”

When another visitor arrived I knew that I’d do far more than simply “manage”. Jim’s presence lit up the room like the sun, and for a moment, I saw only him believing it was just the two of us and the others were nonexistent. The first thing I noticed was the bouquet of roses he was clutching reminiscent of the one I had picked the day we met. Only these flowers were not plastic; they were very much real, and their fragrance proved it.

“No bouquet of roses?” Jim teased as he extended the gift over to me.

“No bed of roses.” I corrected him, “At least get the lyric right, darling, but thank you. These are beautiful.”

“Freddie, I—“

“—Meow!”

I stared up at Jim questioningly. Did he just meow at me? I loved cats and he knew that very well, but he didn’t have to become a cat to receive my affection. “Meow!” The mewl came again and I realized it wasn’t from Jim. Delilah poked her head out from the bouquet, purring softly. “Oh!” I cooed, feeling my heart melt. I couldn’t imagine anything better than my little Delilah smelling of roses.

“The nurses wouldn’t let me bring her in so I had to hide her.” Jim said.

“Very creative.” I complimented as I snuggled with Delilah nearly discarding the roses as I was so excited to be reunited with the cat. “Don’t worry, my love, we’ll never separated again.” I told her, “Jim and I are going to be your new daddies and you’ll live with us.”

“Are you asking me to move in with you, Freddie?” I looked up to see that Jim was blushing, and if it wasn’t for rose scented Delilah, I would declare him the cutest thing in the world. I had myself a real sweetheart and I couldn’t be happier!

“Well you don’t expect me to care for all of my cats on my own, do you?” I drawled, “Delilah won’t be the only one staying with us. We’ll have your cat Fluffy and we’ll adopt a chubby orange one, I’ll name him Oscar, and then we’ll also adopt a tabby who I’ll call—“

“—Just how many cats do you need?” Jim cried.

“About ten should keep me satisfied, but if you want more than ten, I won’t draw the line there.”

“Ten cats?” Roger cried, “Are you bloody mad, Fred?”

“I wasn’t talking to you, blondie.” I turned back to my love, “Jim, darling, what do you say? Do you want to start a family of cats with me?”

“Before you say anything,” Mary interjected, “just know that Freddie won’t take no for an answer, and if you break his heart I will never forgive you.”

“Ten cats could be a deal breaker, Freddie.” Brian spoke up, “Maybe don’t give him such an ultimatum.”

“Like you’re one to talk, Brian.” Roger countered, “You’re probably going to have 39 badgers and hedgehogs and expect Anita to be okay with them.”

“HEY!” I hollered, growing impatient, “Everyone shut up and let Jim speak. I want to hear what he has to say. And yes, I will accept no as an answer. I understand if this is too much or too soon.” I didn’t want to force anything onto him, but it would be very upsetting if he rejected me. I wasn’t sure if I could handle it. Thankfully, Jim took my fragile heart into consideration.

“Of course I’m going to say yes, Freddie. Ten cats is a bit much, but it’ll be worth it if I get to live with you.”

What a relief! I thought of our future together with all of our furry babies and my heart nearly burst it was so full of joy. Perhaps it was the absence of the soulless that could allow me to revel in all of this pure bliss. “If it truly is too much, we can have nine cats instead of ten.” I compromised not wanting to take any chances of losing all that I had to gain.

“Well we have all the time in the world to discuss it, so we don’t have to decide right away. I just want to be with you, Freddie.” Jim said, “I never want to come this close to losing you again.”

“You’ll always be with me, darling.” I took his hand in mine reassuringly.

I let out a startled sob as Jim let go of my hand and dropped down onto one knee. Oh God! I was not ready for this. My mind whirled at the implications of the gesture, and I attempted to keep my breathing steady for fear that I’d surely faint. Was Jim proposing to me?

“I call best man!” Roger exclaimed clearly believing the same thing I did.

“I-I…love you so much, Jim.” I bawled, staring down at him through my teary eyes.

“I love you too, Freddie.” He was frowning. Why was he frowning? This was supposed to be one of the most spectacular moments in our relationship. One that we would look back on fondly and recount to our cats and their kittens. “Please don’t take this the wrong way because I do love you,” Jim said, “but I’m not proposing right now.”

“Y-you’re not?”

“I um found your other shoe.” He clarified as he secured the sneaker onto my foot and rose to his feet. That was the reason why he was crouched down on one knee.

“Oh.” I choked.

How ridiculous I must have looked, crying like baby expecting a proposal when in reality Jim was just giving me my shoe back!

“I told you he was like Cinderella.” John broke the awkward silence.

“I found my prince.” I forced a laugh, brushing aside the embarrassment.

“And I found mine.” Jim replied.

When he leaned down to kiss me, the mistake and any humiliation was long forgotten. I didn’t care that the others were watching. It was just me and my Jim.

“Farrokh!”

“Fuck!” I pulled away from Jim in time to see my parents and Kashmira burst into the room. My family didn’t know I was gay. I grabbed Jim’s hand for support, and he squeezed back reassuringly.

“Mama, Papa, Kash! What are you doing here?” I asked trying to keep my voice leveled and calm.

“Freddie, you were stabbed and nearly died! We got here as soon as we could. We were so worried.” Mama exclaimed.

“It seems that Mary and your friends were informed of the attack before us.” Papa noted, “Do you want to introduce us?”

“Everyone, these are my parents and my sister, Kashmira. Mama, Papa, Kash, you of course already know Mary, but these are my friends Roger, Brian and John.” I gulped, looking back into Jim’s chocolate brown eyes. He nodded to tell me it was alright. “And this is Jim…my…”

“Boyfriend.” Jim finished, “I’m his boyfriend.”

“Yes.” I said more confidently, “This is my boyfriend, Jim.”

“You found yourself a cute man.” Kash giggled, “And it looks like you two are soulmates, so you are very lucky!”

“I don’t understand.” Papa murmured. I refused to look at him, not wanting to view his disappointed expression. I prepared myself for him to scold me or disown me.

“Freddie, you have two soulmates!” Mama proclaimed, “Oh, my special boy. I’m so proud of you. Welcome to the family, Jim.”

She was smiling and I felt relieved. At least two thirds of my family were accepting. Of course I would always love them, but these days I felt closer with my self made family of misfits who also loved me unconditionally.

“Are you okay with this, Mary?” Papa asked the soulmate who already had his blessing.

“Of course.” Mary said without any hesitation. God bless her! “I want Freddie to be happy and you should too.”

“I do want you to be happy, Farrokh.” he said, “Look at me when I’m speaking to you, son.”

Fuck! I forced myself to gaze into his eyes. Jim tightened his grasp on my hand sensing my tenseness. Thankfully Papa didn’t seem upset at all. Concerned, a little bit, but more pensive than anything else. “Are you happy, Farrokh?”

“Very.” I replied.

He nodded. “I see no problems with this arrangement.”

“Yes!” Kash was the first to react, literally jumping into the air. “I’m so excited for you, Freddie!”

On the inside I was just as thrilled as Kashmira, but I remained composed on the outside. “Thank you, Papa. Your approval means a lot to us.”

“Of course.” he said, “Even in an unconventional relationship you can still achieve good thoughts, good words and good deeds together.”

Jim cringed when Papa called our relationship unconventional, but I considered this a victory. Papa could be quite strict and sometimes outright cruel even if he did mean well. Receiving his blessing was a miracle.

“You should all come over for dinner sometime.” Mama invited, “I’m finally allowed to cook again.”

I couldn’t remember the last time Mama made a home cooked meal like she did for us every night back in my homeland. Not having specific meals forced upon us only at certain hours of the day would take some getting used to. The one downfall was that Jim would soon discover what a lousy housewife I’d make as I couldn’t cook.

“Can you make vegetarian coconut curry?” I requested.

“Why vegetarian, Freddie?” she wondered, “I always make coconut chicken curry and you like it just fine.”

“If Brian’s coming over, then it needs to be vegetarian.” I winked at Roger, not ready to admit that the incident with the pigs may have just turned me vegetarian. For now I’d just blame my diet change on Brian.

“Don’t go through too much trouble just for me.” Brian said, “I don’t want to be a hassle.”

“You’re our guest. I don’t mind at all.”

“Your mom is the best, Freddie!” Roger exclaimed.

I laughed. “My  _family_ is the best.” 


	22. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bulsaras attend a Queen concert.

_Freddie’s POV_

“Ready Freddie?” Roger asked over the roaring of the crowd.

“Ready Roger!” I thought the alliteration would sound nice, but the Ready Freddie rhyme had a better ring to it.

“We’re all ready!” Brian announced, “Let’s not keep our audience waiting any longer.”

The moment I stepped onto the stage and the stadium filled to capacity screamed even louder than I knew possible, I knew there was no turning back. I wasn’t sure what kind of reaction I would get to my latest outfit as it was one of the most revealing I had ever worn. It consisted of striped red and white shorts with suspenders and literally nothing else. I was proud to show off my new tattoo of the band’s logo covering Paul’s carving and proving to the world that I belonged to Queen and no one else. Well perhaps I belonged to my Jim, but I liked to believe that we belonged to each other.

The concert was going phonemically as to be expected. We hit every note perfectly and the audience was glued to our every move. However about halfway through  _Tie Your Mother Down,_  I had a rare loss of focus. Even over the noise of the band and the fans, I could still hear a shocked yell coming from the wings. As subtly as I could, I used my peripheral vision to see what was going on, but I had a feeling I already knew. Sure enough, Kashmira and my parents were standing in the wings alongside Jim and Mary. Wiggling my ass in these tight shorts was no problem, but singing a tongue and cheek song about assault to one’s mother may prove to have some issues. When I invited Kash, I told her to come alone, but of course she had to drag our parents along with her. Papa was just beginning to accept Jim as more than just my “special friend”. If I didn’t want any setbacks, I had to remain in his good graces. I was probably going to regret what I was about to do, but I did it anyway.

“Thank you everyone!” I shouted over the applause, “And now we have a very special treat. Our darling drummer Roger is going to serenade you with a love song! How does the sound?”

Brian and John flashed me quizzical looks, but Roger immediately understood. Like a maniac he banged on his drums, driving the girls in the crowd absolutely wild. “Deaky, cover for me on piano.” I whispered.

With that I rushed off stage knowing I didn’t have much time to confront my parents. Jim immediately enveloped me in his arms but came to regret that decision when he discovered I was caked in sweat. Mary handed me a bottle of water which I generously drank in one large gulp.

“Freddie, you are so very talented, and you blew us away,” Mama began, “but I did not appreciate that last song. What has gotten into you? Do you really want me to be tied down?”

“No, Mama, it’s not supposed to be taken seriously.” I explained.

“I thought it was great.” Kash exclaimed, but she quickly shut her mouth as Papa stepped forward looking upset as usual. “Farrokh, why would you ever sing such a disrespectful song? Have you no shame?”

“Papa,” I pleaded, “look at all those people out there who came to watch us perform. We’re entertaining them and putting smiles on their faces.”

He sighed. “Just sing something more respectful please.” Roger’s voice floated in the awkward silence.

‘ _When I'm holding your wheel_

_All I hear is your gear_

_When I'm cruisin' in overdrive…’_

“It sounds like your friend Roger’s song is innocent enough.” Papa interpreted, “Why can’t you just sing a simple song about taking a joy ride?”

“That song is about fucking a car.” I blurted.

“Language!” he reprimanded.

“Sorry.” I stammered, “I’ll sing a more respectful song up next.”

“Good.” Papa said, strangely enough smiling, “And remember, Farrokh—“

“—I know, I know.” I interrupted, “Good thoughts, good words, good deeds.”

“I was going to tell you that I love you, but yes, good thoughts, good words, good deeds as always.”

Of course I knew my father loved me very much, but he rarely told me so. It meant a lot and I was filled with a whole knew confidence. “I love you too, Papa. Now I need to get back on stage before Roger finishes his song.”

Now that I cooled down, Jim took my hand. “Kiss for good luck?” he offered. “I don’t need luck, darling, but I’ll take the kiss.” I accepted. I quickly pecked him on the lips, promising more later before running back on stage.

I’d like to assume the boisterous applause was for me returning to the spotlight, but Roger was thanking the audience, so it might have been for him. Either way I let it believe it was for him just to fuel his ego. It was definitely for me.

“So I was asked to sing something respectful next.” I announced, “And I can think of nothing more respectful,” I smugly walked over to Brian and playfully swat at his ass, “Than to pay homage to the amazingly admirable fat bottomed girls who make this rocking world go round!”

“You are something else, Freddie.” Brian muttered, shaking his head with a grin before we began our harmonies to the intro of  _Fat Bottomed Girls_.

And this is where I will leave you, my darlings. We are free from the soulless and I am doing what I love with the people who I love. Everything is exactly as it should be, and that is the way it shall forever stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been one crazy rollercoaster but kudos to everyone who rode through it with me! Thank you so so much for reading and responding and making my very first (hopefully first of many many more) Queen fanfiction a success!!! Like I mentioned earlier, I will be writing a sequel called Rockstars of Rhye. It won’t be as plot heavy and will mainly consist of one-shots of the boys living with their newfound freedoms and going on various adventures. I may take requests if you want to see them interacting with other rockstars because I did promise you that earlier.
> 
> Anyway, I finish school next week, and I plan to spend my summer doing what I love the most: writing! As you may or may not know, I’m currently working on another Queen story called In Only Seven Days, so check that out if you want. I also have two additional stories I want to start writing soon. I’m considering writing Deacury/Maylor, two pairings I ship but originally felt uncomfortable writing about because obviously Freddie and Deaky and Brian and Roger didn’t hook up in real life. However I am very very tempted after reading some of the many wonderful fanfics with those ships. See you soon!
> 
> -Beth


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